


And So We Begin

by astrariumcatcher



Series: Secrets of the Void [1]
Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 2 (Video Game), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Anxiety, Betrayal, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Development, Death, Developing Relationship, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Family, Fantasy, Found Family, Friendship, Good and Evil, Grief/Mourning, Injury, Internal Conflict, Loss, Magic, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nobility, POV Multiple, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Pining, Platonic Relationships, Rebellion, Unrequited Love, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrariumcatcher/pseuds/astrariumcatcher
Summary: Do not fear the RevolutionAria is a young noblewoman and scholar tasked with the job of being the king's trusted advisor. Her title is more glorified than useful, and she spends most of her days researching and trying to teach the Albion people its history - with failed reception. Aria has one secret though, hidden from the people... She's an extremely powerful Hero of Will.One day, after casting a spell and killing a woman, she finds herself thrown into the world of the Albion Revolution. Her choices will lead her down dangerous paths, revealing dark secrets that threaten the world, and the people around her. The Darkness is not the only being lurking in the shadows.[No Set Update Schedule; In Progress]
Relationships: Ben Finn & Original Character, Hero of Brightwall/Elise (Fable), Hero of Brightwall/Page (Fable), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Secrets of the Void [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552591
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Aria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a day of work, Aria meets all sorts of characters in the streets of Bowerstone Market. Shortly after, she finds herself a lot of trouble.

It was as if a darkness had swept through the kingdom when news of the prince's disappearance became public. Whatever flame of hope had lingered in the heart of every Albion citizen, had dissipated into nothing. Odd stories and rumors came about shortly after. Kidnapping by foreign bandits was the first to hit the taverns. Poison, disease, suicide, soon followed afterwards. Eloping with servants was a fan favorite of drunks, and so was the story of being murdered by the king.

But eventually the tall tales faded, and most people had settled with the knowledge that the prince had abandoned the kingdom. After all, what person wouldn't want to run away from the atrocities of King Logan? It only made sense that the younger brother would flee from the chaos he saw within the castle walls. Though, it brought about more points in taverns: If the prince, who lived in a gilded cage, could not make it through the horrors of King Logan, then the regular citizens did not stand a chance.

Many of these rumors had to be shut down, mostly by the work of Logan's court and advisors. Each one made diligent, calculated moves in order to avoid any more shame brought upon their heads. Aria, a young noblewoman of questionable birth, was not one for pessimistic thoughts involving the state, and took charge when answering citizen questions. Her words and actions were careful in comparison to some of the others, but she still tried. Especially when she was bombarded from all sides.

Her mind took a practical, realistic view when approaching topics about the kingdom - it was something required of her as one of the King's advisors. She hardly recalled the day when the burden was placed upon her shoulders. Perhaps it wouldn't be as grand as a burden as she made it seem, but the cards were not in her favor. There were many rumors about her origin and ability. Some preposterous... and others that hit too close to the truth. While Aria would never admit it to the public, the words they spewed at her hurt. But she wanted to do better - at least for herself.

She was the daughter of a feared man. A man most notorious, his real name was lost to the past. Instead, he went by Reaver. Rumors flew about as to why such a prominent man took care of some child. Some were immature and disgusting, and she couldn't help but feel nauseous. Though the truer ones also brought a bout of sickness. Those that whispered of her abilities; That she must be some sort of Hero. It was the only logical explanation as to why Reaver kept her by his side all these years. It was true that just a few heroes could overturn a government completely, this much was shown when Sparrow and the three heroes took down Lucien. Everyone knew the tale. Heroes were unstoppable when united.

And it was all true. Aria was a Hero of Will, a damn skilled one at that. No one could compare to her abilities. She outshone even the Hero of Bowerstone, who had reintroduced magic to the Albion of now. Yet, regardless of the late Queen's exploits, it was still a widely feared ability to brandish about. Aria kept quiet about it even more than usual, she wasn't ready to face opposition. Her love of the Old Kingdom and history was shrouded by the role she took as a scholar. Perhaps it was in her blood. Her grand-uncle was Garth, one of the more famous Heroes of Will… but no one knew that. While she looked much like her mother with her brown skin and green eyes, the people associated her with Reaver - he was the only parent alive. Most had already forgotten about Angelina.

For all her talents, Aria decided that Albion needed them the most. She stayed by Logan's side to provide a historical aspect to court meetings, describing what would work and what wouldn't. Still, she was often the first one to be cast to the side.

Sometimes she wanted to run away. There was so much going on and she felt helpless in her position, even if she had all the power to change it... To muster the strength... Maybe that was why Prince Erik disappeared? He must have known he could do more for the kingdom outside of the castle. That he followed in his mother's lineage and was a Hero by blood. If just given the resources and a little bit of time, anything was possible.

If that was the case, Aria was sure that Erik would be able to turn the situation around with his positive attitude. Though other thoughts quickly crept into her mind. Maybe he really did run away because the pressure was too suffocating? It was no secret that something about his last meeting with Logan tipped him over the edge.

When he forced himself out of the room, not even Walter or Aria could get a word in. Kind words and formality vanished in an instant, and Erik was left a biting mess - snapping at each person who dared speak to him, a small sliver to the rare, fuming rage he sometimes expressed when hell had broken loose. All Aria could catch of the young prince were his shaking fists. Wet blood coating his knuckles and fingers. Bruised wrists...

Before she could even offer a healing spell, the door was violently shut behind him. That was the last she saw of her cousin.

Even Elise, avoided the castle ever since that day. She too had left the war room in a similar state. Her lips pressed in anger, she forcefully pushed past Erik and others on her way out of the castle. Aria hadn't even had a second to question the situation, and watched as the young woman sprinted out the front gates never to be seen again. Soon after Walter and Jasper disappeared from the castle walls as well.

This was months ago, no mention or sightings since that wretched day. All Aria could do was pray to old gods, hoping that the most forgotten of the deities would be able to help her. She assumed they had nothing better to do and waited for someone to pray to them again. It was only kind to ask them for help. They would be able to give her their full attention. It still didn't prevent horrible thoughts from crossing her mind: Logan had them murdered and disposed of them.

 _'It's not true, stop thinking that! He's family!'_ it was something she constantly had to remind herself about. There was no way Logan would do something to them, it just wasn't in his nature. He cared, despite what was happening in Albion, Logan truly cared about them and about the kingdom. He simply changed a little... Or perhaps a lot. His return from Aurora brought about a new wave of change. Those closest to Logan were unfamiliar with the man he became. But Aria wanted to think otherwise. Logan was still Logan. She just had to find a way to bring back the old pieces of him.

"Madam." A shuffle of papers awoke Aria from her daydreaming. A servant quietly waited for orders, or any movement from the noblewoman before she continued on with speaking. "The documents you've requested. Where should I set them?"

"Thank you... I'll take them," Aria extended her hand, promptly taking the pages from the girl's hands. "Did the print shop give you any trouble for the last minute request?" Her lips curled up into a fond smile. _Treaty Proposal. Samarkand and Albion_. It was a proposal not to be taken lightly, and one she was rather excited for. Samarkand, her homeland, to work alongside Albion, her new home. It would be a joyous occasion.

"Not at all ma'am. They were quite courteous. And besides, I'm happy to help such an honorable member of the court."

Aria looked up, her eyes wide and expression startled as she replayed the sentence in her head. And with an awkward laugh, she simply settled for shaking her head in disagreement. "I would hardly say honorable..."

The servant merely pressed on with a nod, disregarding Aria's words and repeated her statement. Though, listening to her tone Aria could tell that it was simply a formality. Not many people approved of her work or decisions, even less so when Logan took an interest in them and implemented laws from the past.

"Well..." Aria continued, stuffing her papers between the pages of a book. "It's late, isn't it.. Goodnight. Thank you again." She pretended to fumble around, waiting until the servant had bowed to take her leave. Aria let out a heavy sigh, returning the pages to her hands. They would make their appearance later in the week. She slipped it between the crack of a desk, having decided it was time to retire for the night.

She was tempted to stop by Logan's office, at least to bid him goodnight. He spent countless hours in the war room, trying to formulate some sort of plan. A precursor to a giant, bloody battle he would tell her. Aria had thought it a game, the sands of Aurora had made him temporarily insane. And foolishly, she had decided to indulge his fantasies as a little joke. Instead of an angered reaction, Logan only let out a pained sigh. He refused to indulge her anymore, averting the topic of Aurora or this future battle whenever she would bring it up.

There were many nights she regretted the words she told him. Aria _still_ regretted her words. After all, it soured their friendship. She could never forgive herself for allowing his worries and her neglect to be the reason they could not trust each other. In the past he listened to all her silly woes, without judgement and provided her a new, practical perspective instead. When it was her turn to show similar support, all she provided was jests and jokes. She could never be Logan, but she could've been the friend he needed. Now they were reduced to smaller chats when the time was convenient.

"Leaving so soon?" questioned a familiar voice behind her, and Aria spun around just in time to catch the rare smile of her cousin. He looked tired, as per usual. The grey at his temples was prominent, and the dark circles underneath his eyes never seemed to disappear. It was hard to imagine he was only 27, not a weathered old man. Logan had many years left, it was a shame to see him in such a state. Despite his appearance, she returns the smile eagerly. It was refreshing to see him out and about, and doing something other than work.

"This is hardly what I'd consider soon," she quipped back. Her sauntering steps were playful and childish, and Aria quickly found a place next to him as they continued forward.

"I thought I'd find you with your nose to a book, not ready to leave the castle." He sighed through his nose. "But I'm glad I caught you."

"Did you need me for something?"

"Just to bid you goodnight."

"I see," Aria hardly tried to contain the disappointment in her tone. How badly she wanted to go back to the days when she and Logan would run amok in the castle. When the staff was asleep and only a few guards roamed the hall. To days when they would race and laugh and still be youthful. Not days like these, where work and duty overshadowed happiness. They lived in grim times.

Logan thought for a moment, a bitter expression encompassed his face as he eventually gave one solemn nod in her direction. "It's late cousin. Maybe another night." And his words were final, there was nothing else to be said as they arrived at the front door. Logan saw her out and, without much else, left to go work. Aria stood outside, watching as the dark sky loomed above her. She expected a better fight from him.

"Why are you like this?" she huffed, stepping downstairs and towards the marketplace. There was no sarcastic banter, no witty remarks. He had given up within a second. Instead he reserved himself to the kingdom, and Aria knew how well that would work out. It was always the same old story. Whenever he would begin to show signs of his old self, it would be snuffed out in an instant. She sighed once again, making her way quietly to the town's square, muttering like a madwoman.

•••

Oddly enough, the streets remained quiet as she continued her way to the town's square, still babbling to herself about strange things. A chill bit at her arms, the night air reminding Aria that the autumn season was just around the corner. She should begin to change her wardrobe... Bowerstone's cold nights were not kind for walking around for long periods of time. She huffed again, wispy air leaving her mouth.

"I have to be Albion's worst citizen," she muttered, gripping her arms as another cool breeze threatened to freeze her up. A fire would do nicely, and Aria was nearly tempted to start a small light while she waited for a carriage at the edge of town. Her mind returned to the land of fantasy. It would be funny to see her attempt such a daring move... "I do this and that and yet all these bad things keep happening. Honestly, by Avo, what do I even-"

Aria, concentrated in her thoughts, hardly noticed the only two souls standing about the square. Their quiet talking should have woken her up from dreaming, or perhaps their brightly colored clothing should have caught her attention. And yet, she still ran headfirst into the taller one's torso, stumbling backwards from the impact. As she fell, an arm reached out to catch her, allowing her to be spared some bruises and scrapes.

"Oh! By the Light," she yelped, steadying herself as the sturdy grip of the man softens. She felt his fingers linger for just a moment, waiting to see if Aria had actually caught her balance. To his satisfaction, she did, and he no longer kept his hand near hers. "Obviously, I've lost my mind," she continued on, playfully smacking her head a couple times with the palm of her hand. Her eyes flickered upward, ready to thank the one who had caught her but she stopped. There was no way she was awake. She had to be dreaming.

"Is... Is that a Dweller... Outfit?" Aria's eyes widened as she stepped backwards. Looking at his outfit over and over, it was impossible. Her attention flickered to the other, which nearly caused her to shriek. "And an old brigade uniform... Might. Might I add that both of these attires are _banned_ from the marketplace during the Rebellion!" A small yelp left her mouth as the guard leaned forward. She attempted to process the information, and ultimately was unable to comprehend what she saw. Her words had become incoherent mumbles, only growing louder the more she thought about the situation "- spend the night in a jail cell. How fun would that be?"

The two men turned to each other. An amused expression painted on the guard's face, while the Dweller questioned the situation in earnest. It was rather odd to see a babbling noblewoman, especially one who hadn't started screaming. The Dweller elbowed his companion, gestured to Aria with his hand as if it was all he needed to do to explain the situation. With a nod the guard stood closer to Aria, tapping lightly on her shoulder to get her to stop.

"These aren't costume ma'am." The guard spoke up, using a wry smile that made Aria's lips scrunch up in frustration. "We're the real deal."

"Oh you're a lying fiend," she responded with a laugh, only to blanch when the Dweller shook his head. The guard donned an even more sinister smile. They were serious. " _Skorm's fiery balls_."

"Who the-" The Dweller muttered only to be cut off by more of Aria's babbling. He watched her, listening carefully and even taking a step away from her as she prattled on.

"That's not amusing whatsoever!" she snarled, distancing herself away from the two. Perhaps she was lucky there were no guards to witness this exchange. Or perhaps she was in grave danger. It was hard to tell sometimes. Still, the look from the guard was enough to keep her frantic thoughts going, and her mouth moving. "Let me guess, a rebel? A bad boy with a knack for overthrowing governments? Pretty boy playing pretend?"

Laughter erupted from the guard, causing Aria to blush at the comments she had just said. ' _It was a mistake_ ,' she immediately thought, ' _to say anything to these people_.' Any noble in their right mind would have begun screaming from the first second. Calling for _actual_ guards and yelling bloody murder. The whole town would have heard, especially since most were in the tavern nearby. Yet here Aria was, getting into a verbal altercation with people who were enemies of the state. And judging by the smile on the guard's face, she might have flirted with him. Unfortunately, he was handsome. It would be a lie to say anything else.

"I can't be seen talking to you!" She yelled, interrupting the man mid-laughter. He paused, wiping tears away from his eyes, and gestured for Aria to explain more. Her hands balled up into fists. Now he was beginning to drive her mad. "Listen! We'll _all_ go to the gallows. Or the chopping block.. Jail.." She stopped, her mind racing to the worst punishment of all. " _Ravenscar Keep_."

The Dweller smacked the guard's shoulder, all the color draining from his face. And the smirk had all but disappeared from the guard's expression. They too knew the cost of Ravenscar Keep. You lost more than your freedom - you would lose your humanity. No one came back from that place, and if they did... They were never the same.

"Now," she continued, taking a step back towards the inn. "I apologize for running into you earlier.. And my thanks for catching me. If you both know what's best, you'll run along now." She took another step. "I'll forget this meeting, drink myself into a stupor most likely." Another step. "Goodnight. Bye. Night. Yes." With a strange air about them, Aria took her leave. A large spin caused her to stumble into the direction of the tavern into a crowd of people who lurked at the outskirts of the building. The two rebels stood there dumbfounded, watching the young woman disappear into the crowd.

•••

Inside was no better. Aria had pushed herself through various crowds, struggling to gain an upper hand to press closer towards the bar. The constant chatter and grouping did wonders to her dwindling sanity, and she was starting to grow hazy from stress. Various languages rang in her ears, noting all the different dialects as she passed them - smiling as she heard the familiar tongue of Samarkandian. It appeared that the entire town, and those from neighboring countries decided to congregate here. Why the _Cock and the Crown_ had such large numbers on such an uneventful day caused Aria's mind to stir even more. Still, she was thankful that something as Samarkandian brought her to calm.

"Move yourself... Please!" Aria huffed, repeating herself in various languages. She attempted squeezing through yet another group of people. The bar was so close. She had gone through dozens of people - bandits, merchants, nobles, and everyone possibly imaginable. By the time the palms of her hands slammed down on the countertop, she was beginning to look worse for wear. Her hair had fallen out of its prim bun, curls trailing down in every which way. She had pushed away the stray strands, and plopped herself down in one of the stools.

The bartender came shortly after. In his arms were bottles, some empty and some full. Yet what caught Aria's attention was his calm expression, the gentle way of moving. He was busy, working quickly, but hardly seemed stressed. Whatever happened in his life would happen. And she sat there in awe, only coming back to reality when he began waving a hand.

"Fell asleep on me there," he smiled. His Oakfield accent had caught her off-guard. Perhaps Aria was too used to hearing the posh accents of the court and forgot that outside of the royal castle, accents varied from town to town. Of course her accent was far different from those in Albion, still, it surprised her nonetheless.

"If only," she sighed. "What's happening tonight? The Queens of Samarkand coming for a visit?"

"Nah! The bloke that owns the place is proposing to his girl tonight. Called in a favor, so I'm manning the counter. Seems like I'm the only one who knows how to not drink on the job."

Aria let out a light laugh at his words. Albion and alcohol went hand in hand. It was easy to find drunks at all hours of the day. It was even more surprising to find sober folks, especially during this hour.

"What'll you be having?" the man continued, leaning his head down in order to hear her better.

There was a moment of careful consideration, her mouth quirked up into a coy smile. A decision had been made, she knew exactly what would help relieve the situation. "I'd prefer some absinthe. If you have any that is."

The barkeep smiled himself, nodding as he turned to go look for her requested drink. It took him only a moment to locate the green bottle with even greener liquid inside. He took a towel, wiped off all the dust, and it in front of Aria. She observed closely, so did he. A curious expression overtook his features.

"Exactly what I need. How much do I owe you?"

He paused, head tilting to the side as he thought carefully. After a moment, he only shook his head. "Nothing." He held up a finger to prevent Aria from arguing. "Ah nah. No one touches the stuff anyway. Take it off our hands. Pretty please?"

The words left her feeling jittery. Perhaps her luck was starting to turn? After the meeting with the two rebels, her stomach felt queasy. The kindness of a barkeep made her feel right at home. Instead, she graced him with her smile, and a quick thanks. He replied in turn, before rushing off to help another. She swiveled in her seat, propping elbows on the counter, and leaned back. It took minutes for her to become even slightly adjusted to the surrounding crowd. ' _One man, in the entirety of Bowerstone, hosts a party with the whole of the city, plus some, for one woman. Extravagant. So, so extravagant._ ' Nearly on par with her father.... Almost on par with her father.

She did have to commend him for trying.

•••

It had been over two hours, and Aria continued to sip her large drink of choice. Her pathetic, tiny sips had become laughable at this point in time. Each time she could hardly swallow the disgusting licorice taste packaged into the bottle. She ordered a fool's drink. Even the bartender began suggesting that Aria switch out drinks for something better, offering it to her free of charge. She refused to hear anymore, and assured him otherwise. No one in their right mind would drink absinthe, and yet here she was, becoming inebriated with each swig. Though, she reassured herself that it was the perfect drink to forget the earlier encounter with rebels. It was the reason she grabbed it in the first place.

Every passing minute droned on. Any hope that the innkeeper would arrive, with his soon-to-be-wife, began to dwindle. Aria had guessed that they either forgot about the biggest night of their lives, or were milking the event for all it was worth. She could only guess how many people were staying for fun. Or came out of obligation. What else was there to do on a simple night in Bowerstone? Perhaps they were already here, mingling with the crowds and simply waiting for the right time? Still, no one seemed important enough to fill such a grand role, and Aria was left hoping that something more exciting would happen. It was the main reason she hadn't left yet, it might be worth seeing what all the fuss was about these two. So many people... Perhaps he was more important than originally thought.

Innkeeper or no, the two hours brought some interesting people. The Dweller and guard from earlier had entered an hour prior, and disappeared into the crowd. She made sure to hide when they looked in her direction. Any more confrontation with either of them would cause her more grief. Even more grief if only the guard spoke to her. Her cheeks felt hot whenever she thought about their previous conversation. The second hour brought the most interest. What immediately drew her attention away from the door, was the sight of two more guards - still in their old brigade uniforms. Their eyes scanned the room, looking around before the split. Whatever they were looking for seemed to be difficult to find.

"Tough luck buddy, you're not going to find anyone in this mess," she pressed her lips against the bottle, attempting to take one more drink. Instead she sputtered out in disgust, green liquid flying out in various directions. There was no use in trying anymore.

"Are you still milking that drink, ma'am?" a voice questioned behind her. It was playful and all too familiar.

"Listen sir," she took another drink, only to spit out another mouthful of green onto the floor. Hopefully the bartender had returned. She fancied the small talks they'd been having. Though, when Aria tuned in, this one's voice sounded... different. "I would suggest that you watch your words while speaking to a lady of high esteem! I do not milk! I savor the vile taste of this horrid liquid!"

" _High_ esteem, ma'am?" he bursted out into familiar laughter. "Listen, your clothes are high end, but the way you spat out that drink makes me question which side of Bowerstone you were raised in."

A hand mockingly placed on her chest, Aria spun around in her chair, absolutely ready to have a drunken argument with a stranger. But standing before her was the soldier from before. She immediately sobered up.

"How quaint. We meet again tall, soldier man." She drew out instead, her eyes locked onto him. Setting the absinthe on the ground by the leg of her chair, she refused to look away from him. She needed him in her sight, otherwise who knew what he would try?

"Roy Morris." Another one of those smiles as he presented his name. It was the sort of charming she despised. One that made the girls of Millfields swoon. ' _Definitely not me though..._ ' Definitely not Aria. While she continued to berate herself on explicitly saying he was handsome, at least she would never fall for such a cocky smile. Those types of smiles were never a good sign. Her father had that smile... she was well aware of what happened to those who fell for it.

"Don't you boys know that if you keep walking about in town Logan is going to butcher you alive? Go somewhere safer than here."

"Funny..." he continued. His gaze hardened. "That the consultant of a tyrant is saying that while hanging about the city at night with none of the Royal Guards in sight. I suggest you start picking your battles wisely, ma'am. There's a lot of angry people here in the city who would love to rip apart your pretty head without the help of no guillotine. I don't want to be one of them.. But who's to say where the winds will blow."

Without a second thought, she shot up out of her chair ready to knock the life out of him. While she hardly was close to towering him, Aria stood her ground. " _Listen_ here, _Roy_! I don't appreciate being-"

Before she could even spit out the rest of her sentence, the room became still. She worried it was from her outburst, but the sudden quiet was reserved for the arrival of a portly gentleman. A woman with her arms wrapped around his body, and Aria audibly groaned. Of course it was her... The woman who had spent hours in Millfields trying to schmooze the other nobles. How could she forget?

Aria was forced to shoot a stern look at Roy. The man who had just made a threat against her life. Unacceptable. ' _You and I aren't done with this conversation,_ ' she mouthed to him. With the nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, Roy slunk back into the crowd, away from Aria's line of vision. Her father would have suggested killing him... Perhaps she should start taking his advice.

Roy would be put to the side, Aria decided. Instead she was now presented with the event she had been waiting for the entire night: the proposal. She knew nothing about these people, outside of who they were, and what they did... She was familiar with the upper class people of Bowerstone and Millfields. These two especially. They had bought one of the smaller manors that resided by the cemetery. It wasn't the prettiest of places, and was more a hut in comparison to the other homes around the town. But people like them craved status and power - even if they looked like fools. The woman especially. Her hair was pinned tightly to her head, her dress was outdated and tight around all the wrong parts. It was clear she wanted to look like the nobility, but wasn't sure how to do it subtly. In fact, she stood out as a fake more than anything else.

With all eyes on her, the woman gasped in shock. Her theatrical movement caused Aria to blanche. Attempting to withhold laughter had never been an issue for her, but in this moment she tried desperately to contain her giggles. Her initial judgements were right. She _was_ a fake.

' _Ahh... I'm going to rot in hell for laughing at her.._ ' Aria thought. Of course, anyone else of her status would be doing the same... It may have just been a nobility thing... 

"Darling!" The woman began, her voice echoed through the room. If there was any doubt that the event was staged, it was cast aside. This was a pure performance of tomfoolery this side of Albion. "There's so many people to see me! I wonder what for?!" Her voice rose, patting the side of the innkeeper's face. Brightwall's _revered_ actors would have _killed_ to study this act.

"Dear," the innkeeper began. From what Aria could see, his smile was genuine. For him, this wasn't a show, this was the beginning of his life with a woman. He seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but pressed on. "I wanted to-"

She cut him off. "Propose to ME?! Darling! Yes! I'm so thrilled that you invited all the common folk of Albion to see me, the loveliest lady get married to the luckiest guy in Albion. How jealous they all must be!" Her eyes scanned the crowd, expecting to see the agreement amongst the crowd.

Aria's lips quirked upward. How she wished Erik and Logan were here to witness the entire ordeal. The laughter they would have shared from the night on would be one for the history books. But she was alone. Perhaps no one recognized her without them... But yet, it seemed the woman was focused on Aria. Did... She recognize her? Shortly after, those around her began to look. It wasn't long before an eerie silence overtook the air as the woman drew a hand pointing to Aria.

"She isn't supposed to be here! Why is she here!?"

The innkeeper, genuinely surprised, scanned the crowd to see who in the world his future bride could possibly have been talking about. "Corliss... I'm lost. Who's here?"

"A demon!! Can't you see her! Red hair and all, standing there like she hasn't caused Albion to suffer! I can see the blood on her hands. It's all there, all stained. All for the whole world to see! She'll kill us, just like the little king she so dutifully serves. EVIL being!"

Murmurs sprung up from the crowd, some stepped closer to her, and others whispered in question. She could hear her name in the crowd, softly at first and then it came in a crescendo. Her heart sank down to her stomach. Feeling true fear as some began to get a little too close, a little too handsy, and a little too aggressive. There was a chance she would die here today. 

Alone. Hated. Discarded.

"Aria." Corliss had started it all. The mastermind to her impending doom. Whatever play the theatrical woman had created, never in her wildest dreams would she imagine that the king's advisor of all people would come. "Perhaps I'm _also_ the luckiest woman alive. Because here you are... I'm going to kill you. Good riddance.. With one of you gone, Albion is that much closer to winning the Revolution."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm excited to share this story with everyone. This story has been brewing for years, and has gone through so many rewrites - especially the middle school phase. Aria's changed so much from her (less-than) humble beginnings, but I love the person she's evolved. There's more character development and personality then ever before, and it's awesome. Hope you'll stick around, there's a lot more of her story left to go. I know Fable may be a sorta-dead fandom, but it's still worth sharing. Especially for nostalgia's sake, but also maybe some new fans will come across and have fun playing the games. 
> 
> Any comments, constructive critiques, even kudos, would be lovely and much appreciated c:


	2. The Deviant's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria finds herself in the middle of a bar fight and makes a tremendous mistake that spirals her into the world of the Revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild Language/Mention of Blood

It was everything but a dream. She was about to die by a madwoman and the mob she riled up. Quite horribly, Aria wanted to add. There was only a sliver of time to get her bearings, to begin moving into safety... Yet her feet were glued in their spot. Her beating heart overtaking her logical senses. In the next moment, Aria would be violently thrown around. Hit, beat, thrashed about. And she would die. It was the only thing the front part of her mind kept focusing on. The idea of escape was thrown out the window, along with a plan of action. She was unsure of how to defend her. Magic was out of the question. If they didn't want to kill her earlier, they would want to now. Old Kingdom magic was dangerous and unknown. People didn't like the unknown. Especially not in these times. Especially not in this moment. Especially not when Aria was the wielder.

A shot fired in the crowd. Pieces of the ceiling crumbled down onto the ground. Before the crowd could turn to see who it was, another shot fired. And then a third, and a fourth. The small disorientation was enough for Aria to get her bearings and slip through a small opening. She was far from being safe, but, if she were to cause a grand commotion she could be guaranteed an escape.

' _Someone's trying to help you... Think, Aria, think! You can do this without magic, let's go.._ ' 

Her hand reached for a tankard, wildly throwing it in the opposite direction. ' _This is your plan!?_...' A connection was made, for shortly after a string of curses was yelled. Follower by grumbling and louder curses. More shots fired, perhaps they were hoping the attention would be off of her?

"Who threw that?!"

"He did!" Aria lowered her voice, pushing an unsuspecting stranger into the fray. "That's the bloke." And with the cue of footsteps storming over to the stranger, Aria jumped back into the crowd. There was a smack, and grunting - the start of a fight. But it wasn't enough for a real commotion to begin, the focus was still primarily on her.

The dread began to return. She had tried her hardest, with the help of strangers, to save her skin, but she would only get so far. The door was nowhere near her position, and there was no one to trust. Her hands clenched into fists... Maybe it was time for magic. She could feel the will bubble underneath her skin, but she couldn't let go... It would be a mistake to show this side of her...

But to her surprise, within a second, more screaming and shouting began. There were forceful pushes and punches thrown, and soon the whole inn was sent into a tizzy. Corliss' voice could be heard through it all, yelling one singular name over and over. Whatever plan Avo had created, Aria was thankful for him and the situation he created to save her pathetic hide.

It was now or never, and Aria slunk through people and fights. She avoided chairs, thrown objects, and people. Thankfully, she eluded most of the chaos that the tavern was now in. There wasn't a better time to escape... A piece of red clothing flashed in her peripheral, and immediately she turned towards it. The color didn't attract her, instead, the thrill she would get for chewing out Roy for did. Perhaps he was the one who got into Corliss's head. No doubt that was the reason Aria was now in this predicament. It made sense... He was foreshadowing her demise. Her fingers caught onto the fabric, bunching up into a tight fist before pulling down.

"Mister _Roy Morris_! Listen here you _little shit_!" she shouted before realizing that this was in fact not Roy, but a middle-aged blonde soldier. His rifle was in his arms, stopping his shooting. His frozen position caught her off guard, as if he was truly invested in what this strange woman had to say. "O-oh-oh, well. You're not Roy... Do you... Do you know him perchance? I.. Well.. _We_.. have to finish this _wonderful_ conversation we were having, preferably before I retire for the night-" she paused, brows furrowed at his reaction. "What? I know I'm-"

She shrieked when his hand snaked around her waist. Before she could put up another verbal fight, he moved them both away from an incoming hammer blow. Aria's eyes widened at the deep hole in the floor. The floor spot that had just seconds ago held the soldier and her. It seemed he wasn't a horrible bloke, saving her instead of dragging her away into a corner to have his way.

"Thanks are... Are in order," she breathed out. Her voice held a shakiness to it, fingers digging into his shoulder. After every single event that had happened to her tonight, she wondered why in the Light she was still around. Everything was going against her, and yet she was still here. Dodging blows with a member of the Rebellion. She pushed away, thanking him once. In and out, find Roy and leave. That was her plan, that was what Aria was going to do before running away from it all.

"Of course!" he replied, turning to take in her strange behaviors. His hand lingered in the air before falling to its side "You wouldn't happen to be the cause of all this, would you?"

"It seems I'm the cause of all fights that break out in Bowerstone. A bit of a poster child. Want an autograph?"

He laughed. Joyful and sweet, but most of all genuine. The soldier simply shook his head. "Thank you. But I'll pass on the opportunity. At least, _this_ time." While he was physically a foot away from her, the emotional distance between them closed. The fighting seemed far away now, it was just two people having a conversation in a rowdy bar. "Say. Why're you so interested in Morris?"

"Well the bastard tried to threaten me earlier and I have yet to give him a piece of my mind." She hardly meant to be so blunt about such a topic, but her nerves were on its last leg. "By Avo! That man needs a foot up his backside."

"A foot up his backside," the soldier repeated, the corners of his lips flick up into a grin. He had a nicer smile than Roy, more genuine, yet Aria could tell that it held a hint of roguish guile to it. Still, she would admit she liked this smile... It was a better smile. The type of smile that made girls like her fall head over heels. It was the type of smile she imagined all storybook rogues had.

They took another step back when a bandit came crashing down on the table next to them. Wooden pieces flying out. Immediately the soldier pulled Aria away from the fray. He was careful not to forcefully drag her about, letting go of her arm as soon as they went into another safe zone - safe as one could get.

"Are you that determined to find him?" he asked her. They had now found themselves on the midlevel of the inn, watching the chaos happening all in front of them. It was quite a show, and Aria could hardly tell whose loyalties lie with whom. If the crown and the resistance were working hand in hand tonight, what else could be happening? And if Samarkand was willing to help its Albion neighbors...

"A miracle of Avo. My proposal might work..." she breathed out. It was her first real breath in hours, a relaxing feeling sinking in her chest. She could make it out. Aria would be safe. But then the thought of the soldier next to her brought her back to her senses. While he seemed safe in this moment, she knew that he could be planning to kill her in this moment. "I need to leave." Damn whatever questions he asked her, she couldn't stay here any longer.

He looked at her, stunned by her words - but why would he appear shocked? Hadn't he figured that she would have to leave? "Wait. If you're Aria... I have something to ask of yo-"

A hammer smashed into the floorboards right by the side of the soldier. It sent him jumping into Aria. His hands reached for a weapon, but the floorboards shook again, causing him to drop the rifle to the ground. Corliss had come around, swinging the large weapon left to right. Her intimidating presence was enough to reel Aria back into a wave of anxiety. She hid behind the soldier, once again gripped onto his shoulders.

"Move, dishy boy, she's mine!" Another swing from her hammer. "If you want to live, I suggest you get out!"

"Corliss-" he began, his tone low. "Don't do this."

"Are you daft? Since you're pretty I'll say it once more: Move! Out! Of! My! Way!" Swing after swing, Corliss took another step forward. Aria felt like a cornered animal now, and she sure looked like it too. "I'm here to kill her."

"Listen you daft racoon!" Aria screamed. The soldier moved in front of her, acting as a shield. "Killing me isn't going to solve any of your problems! You bought a home in Millfields, you're living a grand life!" She took a step back, tripping over her own feet. The soldier was brought down with her as they toppled to the floor. It had cursed them. Corliss decided that now was her time to strike. Her giant weapon brought up over both of their heads, and with one fell swoop the hammer plummeted.

It should have killed them, or at least smashed their bones into tiny pieces, Aria thought. Her eyes squeezed shut, hands outstretched in panic. What she was horrified to see was Corliss' bloodied features, smashed in an unrecognizable way. She sputtered out, looking at her hands which held the traces of a faint blue. Magic. Her skin may not have had the telltale will lines, but the air around them changed. It was colder, powerful, and a crackle of energy flowed throughout the area.

Aria couldn't remember what spell she had called upon... She didn't know.. She couldn't recall... How in the world had her magic caused this? All she could feel was the nausea in her body, ready to spill onto the floorboards. She had never seen a body like that... Not one that looked like that. Death shouldn't be new to her, she lived with Reaver after all. But death was never caused by her, and never by her magic.

She couldn't even will herself to look at the soldier... couldn't stand to see what horrible expression that was etched onto his features. _She_ was the monster the Rebellion would now hunt. Aria pushed him off of her, running out of view. She jumped over debris and back willed herself back into the sway of the battle. It felt safer than to stay by his side. To be pushing, and pushing, and pushing through the dwindling crowds of fighters and onto the streets of Bowerstone.

Her heart pounded a million miles a minute, willing to overtake both her body and her mind. She would die in the streets from the sickness she felt inside. These would be her last moments. Forget the enemy, Aria would be her own undoing.

She ran past the bridge, and the jail. Her feet carried her past the outskirts houses of the marketplace, and past the fields of wheat. Aria only stopped to breathe when she made it to the monorail station. Immediately the sickness she felt came out, her stomach emptying onto the dirt and grass. Her whole body ached, it felt sore, and worst of all, she no longer felt herself. Aria now watched it all transpire outside of her body. No longer in control.

It took her another ten minutes before she willed herself to move forward, at least to the small cemetery that was outside of Millfields - she didn't think she could stomach killing another person, bandit or no. Another ten minutes passed, she sat there, pressing her hands together, attempting to suppress the magic that flowed in her veins. It sang to her, happy to be used. She shouldn't have done such a thing... Was she becoming her father? He would be proud of her, she determined. Happy that she had taken the first steps into becoming a powerful figure. A _Hero_.

And worst of all, she used magic. Magic that was hidden from the world, now lay open for all to see. The soldier had witnessed it, and it was no doubt that he would tell his Resistance friends of what she was capable of. Would they use her as a bargaining chip? Force her to use magic for their cause? Or worse, kill her in order to set a lesson for Logan? And it hurt her even more to have the thought of Logan not caring, passed through her mind. How horrible a person she must be to think so lowly of the person who was her greatest friend and confidant?

"I really am becoming Reaver.."

The crunch of leaves brought her back to her senses, and Aria sat rigid in her seat. Was it hollow men? Bandits? A pair of lewd nobles running out for a midnight snog? Her fingers gripped the edge of the seating, waiting for something to make its appearance.

"Thought I heard someone," came a voice from the cemetery entrance. One of the Albion's common guards - no longer official by any means. Still kept around for not defecting the king's wishes, showing their loyalty and diligence to the Crown. It would only be a matter of time before the guards in Millfields were properly trained and promoted to kingdom guards. And while Aria was loath to say it, Millfields needed the added protection. It was hard enough getting from side of town to the other without spotting a bandit or balverine lurking at its edges.

"Miss Aria?" he called again, approaching closer to the noblewoman.

"Yes, it's me." She wiped away the tear marks on her cheeks, steeling herself to speak to another person. It was time for confidence. Her clothing smelled of sweat, blood, and vomit. Avo only knew how poorly she looked and sounded, sitting alone in an empty cemetery whispering and sobbing. There was no explaining it to anyone, Aria decided. She couldn't even think about the event without wanting to retch. So she would pretend nothing happened at all.

"Would... " he stopped, actually noting the state she was in and looked away for a brief moment. She could hear a stifled laugh, and then a gentle sigh. "Would you like me to escort you home, madam?"

On normal days, Aria would deny. She didn't need the protection, especially not so late at night when there would be no one to question the use of magic. But she was in a sorry state, and needed the added protection. If they came across trouble... She wouldn't be the one to kill anything. All she would be is a bystander, how it always was meant to be.

"Yes," she croaked out, her voice still hoarse and painful. "Please."

The guard said nothing else, only nodding in acknowledgement as he gently approached her with an outstretched arm. With a light pull, she was standing on her own two feet. ' _The day will continue on_ ,' she told herself, ' _whether I like it or not_.' She thanked the guard, walking by his side as they continued on towards the manor.

Thankfully, he didn't ask any questions. Instead he chose to simply walk in silence alongside Aria.. She really should learn their names, every guard she encountered so late at night in Millfields was incredibly kind to her. They never showed any hint of malice or ill intent. They were good-natured and humble, knowing when to prod and when to keep quiet. He could probably guess that something horrible had happened to her.

They arrived at the gates of Reaver's mansion. It was an immaculate building, and cost more than all the other homes in Millfields combined. The gardens were grand, and perfectly kept, nothing was out of place. Of course, her father always said they needed to look better than others. They were _worth_ more than others. It was a statement that always struck a wrong chord with her. Still, Aria should have counted herself lucky to live in such a place. Yet.. she often wished to be elsewhere.

Aria waved the guard gently away. "I can manage the rest of the trek," she attempted to lighten the mood, only for it to fall flat.

"Are you alright ma'am? Honestly and truly?"

She paused, watching his body language for a moment. Aria wanted to tell someone, tell anyone what had just transpired. Alas, she couldn't. She was a noble, a member of the court. Any word of this night would come back to bite her and Logan. That was something she could not do.

"Yes, I am. Honestly and truly."

It wasn't believable, she could tell by his expression, but what else could the guard say? If he pressed any further it would mean bad business. She was Reaver's daughter after all. Even if her father showed her little attention, Aria seemed to manage to get anything she wanted. She had power, money, and status. These were the things that made kind guards cautious and quiet.

"Farewell, ma'am."

"Thank you, kind sir. Goodnight."

•••

Quiet and dark. That was the manor's state when Aria had crept inside through the servant's door. She could have easily gone through the front, but that meant the potential of confronting her father in the state she was in. It was something that had to be avoided at all costs.

"Ah!" she cheered quietly to herself, feeling along the walls as she slipped passed a snoozing servant and into one of the side halls. The main lobby was littered with clothes and glasses, most likely from the evening's festivities. If anyone was still conscious and around, Aria would be surprised. But to her joy, she found that not a soul stirred in this part of the manor. It would be easy to make it up to her room. "He's asleep! Yes!"

"Did you mean.. Me?"

The smooth voice of Reaver startled Aria into a panicked frenzy. She jumped forward onto the floor, landing on her hands and knees - surely by now, she was covered in bruises. His laughter was enough to send her cheeks burning a red as bright as her hair. He was quiet, stealthy and ever so dangerous to be around. She hardly knew when he approached, Reaver was a careful one - even if he didn't act the part. Amoral and conniving, it was what Logan had called him. And yet, it was Logan who employed Reaver in order to take over Industrial. From what Aria heard about the location was that portion of Bowerstone was beginning to look worse for wear to no one's surprise.

"Welcome home, darling," he stepped closer, brandishing a lamp closer to her. "What a sorry state you're in. Traipsing with a lover then?"

Aria screeched, pushing away the light in order to stand. "No!! Nothing of the sort!" She pushed away one of his arms, which had snaked around her shoulders in an affectionate hug. It was embarrassing enough to look like this around the guard, but her father? Shameful. He had always told her to take pride in her looks. It was about being better than anyone else after all. "Would you quit it?"

"Dear, you shouldn't talk to your own father like that." He laughed, something that sent a chill down her shine. It wasn't a good sign. Was he disappointed in her? He could read her expression easily, and responded with another smile. "Oh, don't play coy. I already know that you've decided to play ruffian in Bowerstone's taverns. Causing a ruckus, are we?"

She blanched, willing herself not to make any sudden movements or anything that would tip off that what he said was the truth. How much did he know? It had only been an hour since she left the inn. There was no way he had found out so quickly... But this was Reaver. He was aware of everything that happened in Albion.

"Oh?" her voice was level as she looked up at him. "Did one of your drunk cronies take white powder by the docks? It causes hallucinations, you know. Bad, bad stuff."

"Oh," he appeared amused, unfazed by her words. "Quite the contrary. Rumors spread fast in Millfields.. What did I hear? Two women.. Parents screaming in the late hours of the night about a fight that broke in the market. And what did I catch from all of this?" Reaver returned the look, smiling as he waited for her to answer. She said nothing, and he still remained unfazed. "My dear daughter's name. Aria. Aria!" He whispered out her name in a faux-shout. "Aria. They were quite adamant that you were there causing a scene."

Of course there were noblewomen from Millfields, but why should she have paid them any regard when she had a goal in mind? Apparently she should have thought more about... Especially if they were so quick to rat her out. She could always embarrass them in court... "Of course they spewed accusations, damn telltales." They didn't have a crazed woman asking for their head on a pike, no wonder they got lucky and made it back before she did.

"Perhaps, you should use your abilities to help in Industrial, instead of causing a tussle in Bowerstone. I didn't train you to be a dog, fighting with whomever you please. Does your career not give you any entertainment?" He asked with a solemn expression. It was hardly genuine or real, but Reaver could act. He was good at acting.

"Father! My career _is_ what gets me into these situations." She paused, taking a more serious tone. "Do you really want me in Industrial?"

He unwrapped his arm around her shoulders, answering her question with only a quiet chuckle. Nothing else was said as he made his way up the stairs and through one of the large doors. She watched him go, waiting for that telltale click before going upstairs herself. His cryptic tone would be deciphered another night. Now, all she wanted was to wash away the sin she had committed, and sleep. Sleep hoping that tomorrow would be better, and for once, wish that yesterday would be forgotten.

•••

Aria awoke to a quiet manor. The light poured into her room, dancing around and rejuvenating her broken spirit. She was by no means healed, after all, she could hardly sleep after last night's events. But eventually sleep did take her, and she rested as well as she could.

When morning came around, Aria had noticed the letter on her bedside table. No address or sender, though she easily made the assumption that Reaver had written it. He seemed to write these letters to her often, especially this time of year. It didn't take a scholar to guess what was written inside its contents. Still, Aria was a good daughter, and she would at least allow Reaver the courtesy of knowing she opened the letter.

She skimmed through quickly enough. Same old information. An annual trade deal in Bloodstone, followed by a trip to the South Islands. Once, Aria had made the mistake of asking to join him on one of these excursions. It was a time when she was constantly researching the small country in the middle of the sea. A new language, culture, food and people. She once transcribed a small paragraph in one of the ancient textbooks and found that the Hero of Oakvale's greatest friend was from the South Islands. Aria's mind went wild shortly after, consuming as much information as she could before being dragged out of the library. Reaver was amused at her request, "Not yet." he would say. It meant she wasn't ready, her magic wasn't good enough. But his smile said something else. A dangerous look that held a hidden meaning. His words were a threat. And thus, Aria never mentioned joining him again. She didn't want to know the real meaning behind his words.

"No surprise here," she muttered, folding the piece of paper and tucking it into the envelope. Reaver would be gone for at least two weeks. Maybe even three. It depended how bold the seas were. When she was younger, she would pretend that the ocean was scared of the Pirate King. That's why he always returned safe and sound, always returning to take care of her. It was a child's fantasy. The ocean had no master, and it was definitely not Reaver. And he never really did return _for_ her, just for her powers.

Aria flopped back down into her sheets, basking in the lingering warmth. She was a tainted person now, but at least her bed did not reflect the horrors she had committed. They were still the same linen sheets, and the same feather pillows. Nothing had changed in her room.

A heavy sigh left her lips. While she frequently complained about Reaver, Aria would be the first to admit he did prove to be an entertaining source of fun. Without his presence in the manor, everything seemed to be dull in comparison.

"Aria," she began in a patronizing voice. "When he comes back you'll want to run! A secret society party, another party. More drinking. More drugs. More... everything ugh!" Another heavy sigh from her lips. "Don't wish for that madman back so soon... Speak and he shall appear." 

She peeked over at the door. Alas, no one entered, much to her dismay.

•••

It was too early for her to become a hermit in the manor, even though the prospect was tempting. Her home held all sorts of mysterious tomes and journals that she could spend years studying. But there would be no one to drag her out when it was time for work. Instead, she decided that the castle's vast library would be the better source - at least Logan could force her to eat when it was time. There were no meetings set for either of them... Aria smiled. With some luck, she might have a nice conversation with her cousin. Just them. Just like old times.

By the time she was done readying herself for the day, it was the late afternoon. The sun was hardly setting, but it would only be another couple hours or so until it did. She huffed out, contemplating her choice on whether or not to go. It would be late by the time she arrived, and even later when she returned home. Was her old room even in the castle any more? It had been years since she last spent the night there.. Too many years. Sparrow was still alive then.

Ultimately, Aria decided on going. It was rare when Logan didn't have any meetings, and she would make use of this prized moment for all it was worth. She stepped out of the manor, locking the door behind her. As she spun on her heel, she nearly slammed face first into a peculiar looking man. His wide eyes caused her to jump back, breathing heavily as the thought of last night flashed across her mind.

"Who the hell are you!?" she screamed, anger lining her voice. The man hardly flinched, instead looking behind her towards the door. Eventually he looked at her, eyebrow quirking up in question.

"Is Reaver home?" He asks. Once again his focus returned to the door, not on Aria. Did she really mean that little to him?

"Who's asking?"

"I am," he spared her a brief glance. "Are you one of the servants?"

"Do I look like a servant?" she flatly addressed. With a small flourish, she gestured to her outfit. There was hardly a servant in Millfields that was starving, but they definitely could not afford such a gown. Freshly pressed, clean traveling gown lined with pockets and embroidered with gold thread. It was a gift from an Samarkandian noblewoman, something that Aria treasured - a beautiful piece of clothing for sure.

"I 'ppose not," finally his wide eyes turned to her and stayed locked with hers. Aria quickly regretted wishing for his attention. His empty stare bore into her, nearly on par with the look of a hollow man. Blue eyes. Blue eyes that she wished wouldn't look her way. "You must be someone living here..."

"Yes. I do live here."

"Ah, prostitute then. Makes sense."

Aria shrieked, her face flushed a bright red at the thought. "Absolutely not!" Her voice was shrill yet awfully quiet. If she was any louder the guards would come. Perhaps they should, but part of her mind wanted to hear what this man's intentions were with Reaver. He was definitely not a lover... Her father did have standards, and better taste. "Try _daughter_!"

"Oh perfect!" If it were even possible, his eyes widened further. A grin crept upon his face, one Aria wished would go away. Out of all the strange smiles she had seen the past couple days, this man's was by far the worst. She would actually take Roy's conniving grin over this any day.

"Perfect?"

"Well yes. I came to tell him about the rebel's hideout, but you'll do!"

"What." She said flatly.

He paused, then promptly continued on. "The rebel base." Immediately he looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping - which was impossible considering the location of the manor. Then he leaned in closer, voice barely above a whisper. "You know, the _rebels_. Bad ones, against the Crown. You're part of the Crown, right? This info should be important.. I came to show someone the location."

"Tell the authorities." She crossed her arms, trying to feign some semblance of power. There was no way this strange man was going to lead her away. Probably had friends waiting to pillage the manor, or something of the sorts.

"Already tried.. They don't think it's enough proof. Please," his expression softened, eyes still wide. "If you know where it is, they'd believe you."

Every warning bell in Aria's mind told her to scream for help, to call the guards, to knock this man upside the head with a discreet spell. This was a trap, it had to be a trap. No one who knew the real rebel base would sell it out. And even if they did, the chances of the location switching was real. No one trusted those who claimed to know where the rebels were. Yet, all Aria could think of was the blond soldier, exposing her powers to the rebellion. She would surely be a worthy prize, or someone who had to be killed. It was a harrowing thought, and even more reason to not follow this creepy man. And then another thought came to mind: Roy. Blind anger boiled inside her, and common sense was thrown to the side. She wasn't done with him. They had a lot to talk about. She had a battle to win.

"Take me there-" she held up a hand. "Don't ask questions."


	3. Secrets of the Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Aria didn't have bad luck, she sure has it now. Like De promised, the rebel's base is really in Industrial. Turns out they're less welcoming than Aria had hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of Blood & Injury

Aria called for a carriage to pick them up near the entrance of Millfields. She didn’t want the residents to ask questions about the strange man by her side. And so, Aria had demanded they go separately and meet up by the stables. It was hardly a foolproof plan, but it allowed her some excuse as to why she was traveling with someone else: she just happened to get on the same carriage because she couldn’t afford to wait. Her father could never know about this stupid plan. He was right, she was raised better.

The strange man stood idly by the carriage, conversing with the driver before stepping inside once he had spotted Aria near closer. She shortly followed after, nudging away the driver and claiming that it was important that she get on the carriage. It didn’t matter that someone else was on, only that she had to go and couldn’t wait - but also didn’t want someone else to miss their ride as a result. Because of her status, she was allowed to board shortly after.

She settled into her seat, sitting across from the man and proceeded to watch him warily. A sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized this was a dangerous situation she put herself into. Regret washed over her as the carriage began to move. Her companion didn’t seem bothered by it, and watched her carefully as well. Those wide eyes boring into her soul. It was strange to see a human have such haunting eyes.

“I should ask your name,” Aria spoke, turning up her nose. It was a method of composing herself, she had seen other noble girls do it - quite well in fact. They said it was to show dominance over the situation and let them know you’re better than anyone else in the room; That you looked down on your fellow citizens, that they were worth nothing. She never liked the way they looked when they performed such actions, it looked too snooty on her face. For most of the time Aria refused to take part in it herself, she was a noble through and through. No need to flaunt it. Yet, she found herself trying to attempt it. She had to appear above him, she wanted him to feel some of the fear he was instilling on her. 

“Alexander,” he leaned down in his seat, knees almost touching Aria and she carefully adjusted herself to move further away from his touch. “De, for short.”

“De?”

“A nickname.”

She snorted. “I understand that it’s a nickname.. Just an unusual one is all. For Alexander, well. Most go with Alex or Xander. Perhaps Al. Never De.”

“ _I’m_ an unusual person.”

Her mouth formed a thin line, eyebrows raising ever so slightly. ' _You’re not wrong there_ ,' she thought. 

“I’ll be a Hero once this Revolution is done,” he continued on, shifting his gaze from her to the window. “It’ll be a popular nickname, I can guarantee it.” 

“A _Hero_ now?”

“Yeah, like the ones from storybooks. But this time, I’ll be the real deal and not the fake ones, with their magic and heroics. A _real_ Hero. They’ll put me in the history books.”

' _Delusional man_.' She willed herself not to grimace at his words. ' _Heroes weren’t real. Magic wasn’t real_..' The sarcastic comment hit her head. If she were foolish, she’d scar his mind forever with her very _fake_ magic. But alas, she wasn’t stupid. It was a bad idea to show off such a talent - she already knew from experience. To Albion’s people, magic wasn’t real. It was some fancy showmanship that drunk people would talk about after work. Those who had seen real magic, would claim that it’s a gift from the Temple of Shadows or some other fallacy. Aria could only imagine what would have happened to the late queen Sparrow had she never become royalty. A witch hunt no doubt.

“That’s a tall wish,” she mused lightly, hoping to pry more information out of him. “What would you do to receive such praise?”

“ Ma’am , it’s a bit hard to explain with just words. A bit impossible actually. The plan is concise. There’s a lot of pawns, but one in particular is the most important key.”

His words struck a wrong chord with Aria, who had been watching his facial expressions carefully. There was a hint of revenge, malice, and pure joy when he spoke of his plans. She dearly hoped that she wasn’t a pawn of some deranged game… But the closer they neared to Bowerstone, the more she figured she was. if not her, then it'd be Reaver. Then again, her father would have shot the man for stepping onto their property. For the second time that week, Aria wished she had more of his attitude involving boundaries. 

The carriage came to a halt, stopping at the stables located near the bridge. It wouldn’t be a long walk to Industrial, but Aria dearly wanted to be alone right now, and not with a crazed man. She stepped out of the carriage after De, mildly offended that he hadn’t offered to help her out, though she wasn’t sure she’d accept such help from him if he had. Thankfully, he had paid for himself, and Aria did not have to fret about spending coin on him.

They walked outside of the stables, stepping into the sunlight that graced Bowerstone. It would be getting darker soon, but Aria would relish the sun for a few minutes longer. “We’ll head in opposite directions,” she whispered to him, noting that he had been watching her for quite some time. “I’ll take the bridge and walk around, you head straight. We’ll meet at Industrial’s entrance.” He nodded in agreement, and without another word continued forward to Industrial. Aria went her separate way.

She thought about going to the castle and staying there, beg for Logan’s help. But what would she even say? Strange men in Bowerstone were aplenty, Aria did not need to be reminded that. The other advisors would laugh at her for suggesting the King come to her beck and call for some shady men. Still, she was curious if Logan would send guards to follow after her, making sure she was okay... Aria dismissed the thought. She didn’t want to trouble him. This was an issue she was going to resolve by herself. 

A thought crossed her mind when her red hair blew across her face. It stood out. Incredibly so for a variety of reasons. No one from Samarkand had such color hair, and it was also quite uncommon to see anyone in Albion sport it - especially not noblewomen. She had to cover up before entering Industrial - if her hair didn’t catch the unwanted attention of Albion’s citizens, her clothes surely would.

She already knew what she had in mind, beelining to the store to find it. It was simple enough with many pockets and a hood. A traveler’s cloak, popularized by those from the Eastern Kingdom. Aria had never been to the small country, but knew all about it’s love for war. Violence wasn't its sole focus, the regular people loved fashion. It wasn’t a surprise when Albion looked at other countries for inspiration regarding clothing. They had their own style, but those who wanted to appear current or fashionable also sought out something different - especially when the Eastern Kingdom was involved. They were a powerhouse like no other... For a variety of reasons.

“You don’t want this one ma’am?” the clerk asked, pulling out a gaudy cloak. A dark shade of yellow, popular for the upcoming autumn season. On the other hand, typical Albion cloaks consisted of interesting colors, embroidery, and accessories. Those who could afford it wore them proudly, those who could not... Well, they would try their best in recreating such designs themselves.

“No, I want something subtle. I wouldn’t find it clever to go traipsing about brambles in such a _nice_ cloak.” 

“Very well.” The clerk sounded almost disappointed, but nodded regardless. Taking Aria’s gold and placing the cloak in her hands.

The noblewoman thanked, stepping out of the building and into a corner to put on her new garment. It fit nicely, covering up most of her dress in the front. The sleeves came up to her wrist, causing Aria to pull up the sleeves of her dress in order to hide the embroidery that garnished the cuff so that it wouldn’t peek out. For the most part, it was a lovely cloak albeit not fully authentic - Eastern wear had more fur and was also a lighter color. Regardless, it would get the job done. 

She pulled the hood up over her hair, covering most of her features as she continued along the quieter parts of the marketplace on her way to De. He noticed her first, sitting on top of a railing while he waited for her.

“A cloak?” He questioned her, jumping down from his perch.

“A necessary investment. If I’m to walk about in Industrial, I need to look inconspicuous. This was the best I could do with the lack of preparation”

“Fair enough. Let’s go then.”

The walk from the marketplace to Industrial was around five minutes. It was around the one minute mark that Aria could feel the change in air quality. While most of Bowerstone had its share of smog, this part of town was another beast entirely. As soon as they stepped into the neighbourhood, she began to hack from all the build up in her throat. Smoke, pollution, and dust coated her lungs every time she took a breath. 

“You aren’t looking like a local,” De gripped her arm, pulling her to a side alley. With a shake, she stopped coughing. “You need to quit.”

“Let go of me, Alexander.” Her voice low. She smacked him away, stepping back out onto the street. If he tried anything, let him try in front of many people. While she doubted anyone would rush to her aid, at least she’d had witnesses. “I’m fine, _appreciate_ you asking.”

“It’s a little smoke, ma’am. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

' _It’s not just smoke_ ,' she thought while staring at him coldly. ' _It’s pollution, and sickness, and people are dying because of the conditions here_.' She never was surprised to hear about the troubles of Industrial whenever the other advisors would speak of it. Her father was a businessman, it was about the product more than it was about the conditions. He was able to see the hard things through. To benefit everyone... there were sacrifices. It was a hard concept for her to grasp, but it was necessary it seemed. For the greater good. But to see the conditions in person... It was time for her to rethink what _for the greater good_ actually entailed. 

De shook his head. He pressed on without her, and Aria could see his clenched fists shaking. A red smack began to bloom on his skin from where she hit him, and a small sense of satisfaction washed over her. If she couldn’t use magic, she’d use other methods.

He stopped at an inn, turning around to see if she had been keeping pace. It was when she noted that he had his fists unclenched. “We’re here.”

It was common knowledge that rebels gathered by the _Riveter’s Rest_ , all the other advisors talked about it. There were never many raids planned though, just a couple here and there. To show the strength of the Royal Army. Whenever she’d ask Logan about it, he always told her that it wasn't a hideout, just a front for the people. The real base was undiscovered, and the time to strike may never come. Logan didn't want to entertain the play Rebellion.

“What a joke, you must think you’re such a comedian,” Aria huffed loudly. She stepped from one foot to the other, getting more impatient by the second. He had sent her through a pathetic trip that only resulted in common knowledge. It was a good thing she didn’t run to Logan for help. It’d be a waste of time for his guards to follow her into this fool’s quest. She’d look like an absolute idiot for believing De even had a semblance of good information about the rebel’s base - oh how the other advisor’s would have a field day at her expense. “You _really_ think this is the rebel’s real hideout?”

“Don’t be daft. This isn’t some storybook. The hideout is much better, follow me,” De grabbed at her arm, pulling Aria down a short flight of stairs leading to the river’s edge. He stopped at a door, and gestured wildly to the bolted object. “ _This_ is the rebel base.”

“Even better!” she said with a bitter laugh. Again, it was common knowledge about this area. She was a fool to even follow him further. Why did she continue to torture her sanity? Yesterday's events must have done her in. “And now what? Alexander, this is ridiculous. And frankly, _old_ news. This is outdated and useless information.”

De pulled at the handle, opening the door and gestured for her to enter. “Yeah, this is why the Crown didn’t believe me. Everyone knows it’s where the rebels spend time, and not the real base with the real information.” He sighed, lowering his voice into a whisper. “But what they don’t know is that you go in here to get to the real base. Sewer systems. There’s a bunch of forgotten and abandoned areas that are hidden. Never been found during raids because they hid it well. Secret entrances are everywhere, but they're hard to get in sometimes.”

It made sense now, the rebels were hardly caught because they utilized the sewer labyrinth underneath Bowerstone. A cover up to drive the main attention to this one spot and allowing the real entrance to be hidden in plain sight. A nod from Aria, maybe De was right. She would just have to trust him. And so she entered first, feeling him follow shortly after. And with a clink, the door locked behind them and the staircase plunged into total darkness.

“You really are an idiot.” 

•••

Aria felt herself lift off the stairs, and suddenly she was toppling forward, body hitting every other step. She landed on the hard ground in a heap, a crack resonating in the room then a scream that came deep from within her. The ground was cold and wet when she finally landed. Such an impact left her breathless, the pain in her lungs was just as bad as her aching arm. Aria had to get up, she needed to move herself, to get away. Away from the deranged man that just sent her to her doom. But she felt a pull on her hair, De had dragged her upwards towards him.

“Come now! You wouldn’t want to miss the story of how I become a Hero!”

Her good arm scrambled up to whack at him, but he simply drove a forceful smack to her face. Aria was sent sprawling back to the ground. More pain shot up her arm, this time worse than before. He let her go for just a moment. A sense of pity washed over his features, and he stepped away from her shaking body.

“It’s not fun when you’re only screaming! Run!” He shouted, kicking at her side. When she refused to get up, he kicked at her again, roaring in anger. “RUN! NOW!”

Aria didn’t know why she complied, finding the will to scramble upwards onto her feet. The way back would be impossible, not with De’s hawk-like eyes cornering her if she were to make a wrong move. The rebel’s base would be the only way to go. Unfortunately, it was just as bad as De, but at least they would grant her a swift death. Or at least Aria would hope her death would be swift - they might be as crooked as De was. Waiting to tear her limb from limb in order to satisfy some deranged bloodlust.

She ran as best she could, heading further into the base. Crates piled high to the ceiling, no sense of freedom anywhere in sight. No one worthwhile would hear her. Anyone above them would not be able to save her in time, and anyone down here wanted to kill her. A forceful push sent her sprawling down, and Aria only managed to briefly shield her broken arm from the impact. She shrieked again, unable to contain her voice from sounding shrill. Here she was, about to be murdered in a poop sewer. 

' _Magic, magic, use magic! Please!! You stupid, stupid girl! Just use your powers! For once... Don't be afraid.. Please!_ ' 

Her good hand clambered up to De’s face, purple mist leaving her fingers and seeped into his skin. The concentrated dose worked its way into his system in an instant. He dropped her, and Aria hit the floor with a thud. Commotion and shouting neared around the corner. She was loud enough to garner the attention of the rebels stationed here. A brief smile flashed across her face, and then a look of fear. ' _Why am I smiling?! They're my enemies! They're here to kill me!_ ' 

At the first sound of shouting, she dove behind a crate, crawling farther and farther away from the exit. It was a foolish move, Aria should have ran out, but curiosity dragged her into the corner wondering what would happen to De… But also if she could see if the entrance to the rebel’s base was really here, hidden amongst all this… this trash. If there was some semblance of truth to his words… Perhaps all this pain and chaos would be worth it? There were people here... So perhaps the entrance was closer than anyone thought. Or perhaps she had been dragged at a bad time when all the rebels were leaving? She groaned to herself, berating her actions and praying that her father would never find out about it.

A shot fired, followed by a heavy thud. The blast echoed in their close quarters, as well as the shouting that followed.

“What are you doing?!” 

“Get him tied!” 

“Someone else was with him!” 

“Find them!”

She peered over the edge, hoping to get an idea of what was happening. A body, on the ground, blood pooling out beneath everyone’s feet. Alexander was there, gun in hand, covered in spattered blood and lashing out at anyone who neared. She could spot the light purple haze covering his eyes - no doubt the others weren’t paying attention. It was hard to see something when you weren’t looking. 

Pain shot up her body reminding Aria that she was injured, and no use to herself in such a state. With her good arm, she lightly grasped at the bad. She hissed at the touch, letting a deep magic work its way through the skin, muscle, and bone. She could feel every nerve and ligament stitch back together, and Aria wills herself not to cry out in pain. But it was done. Her arm would be sore, but no longer would it be swollen and broken. At least she could move more freely now.

The commotion continued on, more shouting and chaos in such a cramped space. There was fighting now. She could hear the telltale sound of swords slashing through the air, more gunshot blasts, and connecting punches. To believe, an actual fight happening underneath Bowerstone. And Aria was amidst it all… She should have known that yesterday’s events would lead to bad tidings. 

“Skorm’s fiery balls,” she cursed once again, leaning back into the empty space behind her. She was ready to leave and be done with it, nothing good was going to happen. Aria turned, face to face with the muzzle of a gun. The man behind the trigger barely had a moment before the young noblewoman panicked, sending a purple mist into his face. He sputtered out, coughing up a storm before taking in the full effect of the magic. A second later, his weapon lowered and Aria reached out to take control.

She struggled to pry the weapon from his hands, instead she managed to push the butt of it into his face. The sickening crack of his nose breaking caused Aria to recoil, not expecting that her aim would be so bad. He grumbled lightly, mildly perturbed by the pain. Bruising was already starting to form, and blood poured into his lap. Still, the rebel did nothing, simply watching the room with dull eyes.

“Stay… Stay here.” It was a stupid command, Aria knew she wasn’t adept at the turncoat spell. At least, not adept enough to be able to control someone. "I must have given you a smaller dose.." If she were lucky, no one would come around the corner, and no violence would happen. And she had to move, or do something. It would be easier to get out with no-one on her tail. Before she could turn, an unfamiliar voice filled the room, causing Aria to blanche. 

“Now what the hell is going on?!” the disembodied voice screamed. The room fell silent, no longer did it hold the air of chaos it once had. In fact, it was so quiet, that Aria wasn’t sure if someone would answer them… Her. It took Aria a moment, but this was a woman’s voice. “Do I need to repeat myself?!”

“No!” one of the men responded, his voice wavering. “Not at all!”

Another continued. “Some infiltrators entered-”

“De …. And some girl by the sounds of it.”

“You’re telling me that De-” a pause from the woman. “De, who is now tied up and foaming at the mouth, was with a woman? And you decided to cause a stir?! The guards don’t need a real reason to come here!”

“He was shooting us and-”

“Barney!” there was pain lining the woman’s voice now. “Poor man…” A softer tone overtook her words. “Kidd, get him out of here.” 

There was a shuffle, and Aria pressed herself into the crates, caving into herself. An extra dose of haze was sent in the direction of the rebel nearby. If they were quiet, she might be able to leave without anyone knowing. She paused. A slow-time spell would be smarter. But would she be able to run out fast enough? A stir from the group caused Aria to listen in, all she needed was an exit. A small gap so she could escape. She had hoped they were all leaving, but the stir she heard was not that. Another familiar voice entered the fray: De.

“What’s going on!?” he snarled out. Aria cursed herself for forgetting that he was also affected by her magic. “Untie me! NOW!”

“Absolutely not! I don’t need a rabid dog loose in here!” the woman responded in a similar tone. “Get him-”

“Where’s the girl!?”

“What girl, De? I don’t believe there is one.”

“Reaver’s daughter.”

The silence that followed sent a whole new wave of nausea into Aria’s system. There was a movement around her, and it took them no time at all to find her and the dazed rebel - who put up no fight, much to everyone's confusion. They picked her up with no consideration to her wellbeing, dragging her out to the woman. She was dropped in the center of the room, weapons pointed at her. And Aria froze, unable to struggle. Fear had gotten to her and she had no time to process her situation. She was stunned. 

“Aria.” the woman said. When Aria actually looked up she immediately recognized the face. The woman behind the Revolution: Page. Her face was plastered onto posters all over the city. There wasn’t a person in Bowerstone who didn’t know how she looked, or what she stood for. And yet, somehow Page managed to elude them all. “Take her to a cell.”

And that was that.


	4. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening brings familiar faces and a sense of comfort in an unforgiving storm of emotions, while a choice is made regarding Aria's fate.

They left Aria alone for almost an hour. Within that time she had managed to calm herself down to an acceptable level. Still, her nerves were there, ready to spring back up when the door would open, her fate finally decided. She didn't know who, or what, would be on the other side, but she hoped they were at least kind to her.

She had been placed away from the other rebels, especially De - who had broken free from his comrades in order to deal another strike at her. Thankfully, the others had restrained him before he could do more damage. His hands were tied behind his back, and then an added layer of restraints for extra measure. The thought of him he free scared Aria to no end. She would die here one way or another.

The small cell she was placed in did not shield her away from the noise outside. There were soldiers stationed nearby, chattering to themselves. No doubt they were there to shoot her down should she manage to escape. But there were other noises. Aria could hear shouting, albeit she could not distinguish who was talking nor what was being said. Still, the argument continued for a while, only ending with a resounding blast that reminded her of a gun.

Aria returned to the bed, cradling herself as she willed her nerves down. ' _That sound… The yelling_ ,' she repeated in her head thinking of conversations her father had with strange people from stranger worlds. Many ended with the same sound... No doubt someone was shot. Someone died. And Aria worried she would be next. 

Time passed slowly, but eventually someone did come. The door creaked open, causing Aria to stir awake from her daydreaming, her stomach back to feeling nauseous, but it settled in a heartbeat once she recognized the face standing before her.

He was a giant, tall as can be with rugged features and brown hair that had begun to grey at the temples. The clothes he wore were stained with grime, dirt, dried blood, and yet she could still see the original khaki green color it used to be. Its decorated buttons were faded, but still there, as well as the sun symbol of the Royal house. His weathered face broke out into a smile when she neared.

“Prince Erik Tucker,” she drew out slowly, taking in his features. Bandages taped around his arms and legs, stitches that kept his tearing clothes together… The epitome of a rebel prince. Something straight out of a storybook. “It’s you.”

“Cousin… By the Light…” Erik paused, standing in awe in front of the young in front of him. “You’re here… Alive.” Within a second, he wrapped his long arms around her, squeezing until she was left rasping. “I missed you so much.”

She let out a ragged breath, gingerly raising her hands to hover over his back. It was impossible to believe that her cousin was right here, standing perfectly fine, and not dead. He hadn’t run away from the kingdom. He was making it right again. Then, it hit her. Aria instantly fell into the embrace, if not tighter. Tears formed, rolling down her cheeks as she wheezed for air. “Erik.. You’re… Alive.” More wheezing after each of her words, as she tried to choke back the waves of sobs. “I’m so happy you’re alive.” He was okay. “We all thought you died.”

With a small chuckle the young man bobbed his head in confusion. “We?” His face became solemn. “Ah.. My brother no doubt.” He returned with a whisper. The words barely left his mouth. Best to not let the others around hear the sadness in his voice. These people wanted the King’s blood… Erik just wanted his brother back.

“Yes…” Aria agreed. Whatever the true reason behind Logan’s emotions, Aria would never be truly privy to it, but she could tell by just his eyes that there was a small semblance of regret for what transpired that night. Logan wanted his brother back too. “He and I-”

Erik placed a hand on her forearm, signaling her to stop. This wasn’t the place to talk about mutual connections - especially connections that were next on the hit list according to the Rebellion. Aria simply nodded, understanding in full. No doubt she was one of those on the chopping block, saved only by the good graces of the Prince.

Silence filled the air. Aria finally noticed Page. Her posture said it all; Crossed arms and leaning against the doorway as if to guard the exit. She watched their interaction, mulling over something in her mind. There, her expression changed to something softer, yet her posture was firm, guarded almost. "Your Highness, let's talk outside."

"In.. in a moment Page," Erik's brows furrowed, turning to the woman before them. His own voice was gentle, and Aria questioned the history between them "Aria… Join us. Join the Revolution."

Her eyes grew wide, and her step faltered as she fell back to the bed. Page's voice rang in her ears shrill, full of shock. She couldn't blame her, Aria was just as surprised.

"Erik?! Out of the question!" Page hissed out, reaching for the prince's arm. Her grip loosened when he turned to her. His own expression was calm, gentle, and Aria could see Page falter under his gaze. He had that effect on people. It seemed that the strong leader of the Rebellion was just as susceptible to it. “It’s dangerous,” she whispered.

“It’s beneficial…” he pleaded in turn. “Let’s talk with the others.”

“Fine.” It was a quick agreement, and Page left the room without another word.

Aria felt breathless. Here was her cousin, alive and well. But he was part of the Rebellion now, the citizens who swore to destroy Albion’s current leader and all that he stood for. Yet Erik wanted her to join him, for whatever reason. And what would she even say? There were too many conflicting feelings and thoughts that raced in her mind, and she had no idea which path to take.

“We’ll have to blindfold you when we go,” Erik spoke, taking Aria out of her daydream. He watched the door, almost keeping a guard for any strange happenings. Perhaps there were others who wanted her dead, and if he let his guard down for a second she’d be killed? Or perhaps he was regretful for offering a spot for Aria without speaking to Page first? She couldn’t tell. Her cousin was a hard one to read, even if he liked to play the part of a fool.

“Of course.. Understandable, after all...” She tried her best to smile. After all, it seemed like the only way out of the sewers.

•••

The moment Page returned, Aria was blindfolded and led out of her chambers. They walked down a winding set of halls, and Aria felt as if they were walking in circles to trick her thoughts. Still, they never left the sewers - she could tell by the smell. So at least those rumors were true.

Eventually, she was sat down somewhere in a quiet hall. “Don’t take off the blindfold.” Page neared closer to her ear. Before Aria had a moment to respond, she was gone, her steps already meters away. “Make sure she stays put.” She said to someone else, probably guards nearby. Aria didn’t hear anyone else when she was walking with Erik or Page… When did the others arrive? Or perhaps they weren’t there and that was simply to scare her into compliance? Regardless, Aria wasn’t about to gamble her life in order to see what the correct answer was.

The hall stayed quiet. Nothing in the air besides the occasional drip of water falling from a pipe, or the distant slamming doors. And that silence reminded Aria about all the troubles that were soon to befall her.

“Is anyone really there?” She said to no one in particular. What she hoped for was an answer by the supposed soldiers watching her. But to her avail, there was no response. Still, to think that Page would test Aria’s loyalty so early, and without any insurance, was baffling. “Perhaps I’m alone. Well, what a _good_ time to practice my memory exercises. Ahem…” She cleared her throat, relishing the fact that they had left her hands unbound. ' _If I were braver…_ '

“Okay… In volume seventeen of the Very Unsafe Book for Boys, the topic is vaulting poles. Author Konan Wiggledung states this: Jumping across the river is good fun for boys. To get started one needs to build a proper pole. If there aren’t any proper logs around, grabbing table legs from-”

There was a stifle of laughter in the air, the small change in silence was enough for her to grin. “I knew it! There’s someone here!” Light steps approached... ' _Of course I couldn't hear him earlier, with soft footing like that. Walks like a cat!_ '

“Of course there is,” came a male voice, and she could someone brush past her both arms. Two soldiers then, taking opposite sides of her. Strange, they _both_ were so quiet. “Still strange as ever.”

“You were awfully silent…” she mumbled, taking in his voice. Something about it was so familiar. “Do I know you?”

“Bloodstone boys are quiet as all out… Good ole Konan taught us that,” another fit of laughter and Aria immediately knew who it was.

“Roy Morris!!” She shrieked, flailing both of her arms. Aria made contact with one of the soldiers but not the other. There was a hefty groan, followed by laughter.

“Idiot! Hit the wrong guy!”

“What?!” She threw off the blindfold. Roy was there at the other wall, grabbing it for support as he laughed away. The soldier she had hit… It was the man from the inn… The one who had saved her… “I- I’m sorry! Are you alright?!” Her eyes widened, leaning over to look at his features to see if he was in pain.

He nods in response, smiling at her. And right then and there, she melted, not realizing how much she had craved to see a smile like his once more. It was lovely and charming and all around something she wished more people had the ability to muster. Aria straightened up, flustered by her emotions and by his face. She was hardly thinking about his face when they first met, but seeing it so close, she couldn't help but blush. He was handsome... What was with Albion and their handsome soldiers?

A door creaked in the distance and the blonde soldier rushed to pull her blindfold back on. He stood against the wall with Roy in a matter of seconds. It had gone by too fast for her to comprehend anything right then and there, but she could tell their demeanor changed. No longer were they the silly boys playing a prank on Aria in the middle of a sewer, they were the composed soldiers of a Rebellion led by a dangerous woman. The approaching steps were enough to make Aria compose herself as well.

“Morris.” It was Page’s voice. “Come with me.”

And that was the end of the discussion, and Aria listened to two pairs of shoes walk down the hall. They left her alone with the soldier who knew her biggest secret. She grew wary, scared. That smile wouldn’t protect him, she needed to come to terms that he was her enemy. They were no longer comrades running from danger, it was she who was in danger now. This was not an equal playing field.

“This must be awkward for you,” he spoke up, sure that no one else was within earshot. She could feel him return to her side. Their hands brushed together, Aria could feel the warmth of his body. It was cold down in the sewers, she was surprised he wasn't freezing.

“A little,” she returned. Keeping her tone level and curt. A moment. His fingers reached for her face. “What are you doing?!”

“Allowing you to see,” he laughed, pulling up the blindfold past her eyes and onto her forehead. “Unless you prefer to be in the dark.”

“No.. Light is better…” ' _What am I supposed to say now? He’s so close._ ' She could feel a blush rise up in her cheeks, and Aria turned to the hall pretending to be interested in something in the distance. “I’m sorry I hit you.” 

“I believe it’s payback… For all the times I dropped you.”

She laughed gleefully, covering her mouth as she tried to level her emotions once again. “You make it sound so brutish and ungraceful! You were falling as well and I-” When she turned to look at him, the feeling of nausea and guilt returned. The memory of Corliss rang in her mind. Her face went pale and her eyes shot to the floor. His hand hovered over hers. Was it supposed to be comfort? Intimidation? Aria wasn’t sure what he wanted. What she knew was that her emotions were becoming conflicted and she wanted to run away. 

He settled by putting a hand on his thigh. “Erik knows magic.”

“What.” The three words had caught her off guard, and Aria swung her head to stare at the soldier. Her tone was harsher than expected. She couldn’t tell if it was because of malice for him knowing something so secret about her, or if the preposterous thought of Erik having the same skills as she.

“He does… It’s simple stuff, and he uses a glove. Not.. Like yours-”

“I don’t know what you thought you saw, but magic is something I cannot do.”

The soldier scoffed, his eyebrow crooked up, ready to challenge her. “You’re going to lie straight to my face? Why are you denying it?”

“There’s no denial! I can’t do magic, why aren’t you understanding this? It’s strange, and dangerous! The royal family is probably the only ones who can conjure it. The Queen only had control because-”

“Your magic is beautiful.”

Once again, this man had caught her off guard and Aria bit back the remainder of her sentence. He had seen her brutally kill someone with this beautiful magic, and yet he did not bat an eyelash. “What are you talking about?! It's not beautiful at all! I hurt-..." She scoffed, fighting back tears. He caught her. "Bastard.”

“See.. Lying.”

“Please stop.”

“No one else knows. No one will know unless you want them to.”

“I’m supposed to trust you? A stranger? A Rebellion boy? I’m going to get killed one way or the other and you have all this leverage against me! You expect me to believe you’d never sell me out?”

“I want you to trust me.” 

If his smile had made Aria melt, his eyes did another wonder. It had made her grow silent. His eyes held sorrow and guilt that she would never be able to understand. Of course he knew what it felt like to kill someone. That guilt, that sickness. The feeling that a stranger had leverage against you. He must have thought her magic was beautiful because it was something straight out of a fable. A powerful being, able to control the elements with a wave of a hand. Who was capable of such a power? Who would have thought such immense power would come from such an anxious girl? A girl who was too afraid to use it on a normal day.

“I can’t…” she answered. Her voice wavered, but it was the truth. He was still a stranger. “I don’t know anything about you.”

“It’s a big request… Maybe one day…” He stood up, leaning over Aria to pull back the blindfold on. “Erik wants you here.”. The door creaked in the distance, and Aria could hear him stepping away. Still, he continued on in a whisper. “I know he isn’t a clueless dunce that can be easily manipulated. He has reasons. Maybe loyalty? Advantage? Who wouldn’t want a will user on their side of the war? But, he trusts you, and I trust him." She could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered the very last part. It sang to her ears and made her heart flutter. "My name is Ben, and I want to be on your side.”

The footsteps grew louder, and Aria could feel the dread bubble up in her stomach, dissipating all feelings of warmth Ben had given her. They returned, meaning whatever sentence and decision had already been made for her. There was no way she’d leave scot free, but the thought they’d kill her seemed unlikely now. And when the footsteps stopped, her blindfold was pulled off in one swift motion.

Erik stood in front of her, wrapping his arms around her. His hug made her terror rescind, and his soft words made everything better. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”


	5. Bickering Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A choice is made for Aria. And with Roy's help, Aria finally leaves the sewers, only to find herself in more trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Heavy language

Erik's words were a relief to Aria. Yet, all she could do was meekly nod as he continued to speak. The latter part of his sentence brought her back into a state of shock and reality. The Rebellion needed her and she would join if and only if she passed a test.

“I didn’t agree to such a request,” Aria whispered, her tone harsh. She pulled at Erik’s sleeve to gain his attention which she received begrudgingly. “So my life is on the line if I don’t join? That’s not a fair deal!” She looked at the ones who had gathered around. Page, Roy, Ben, as well as other faces she didn’t recognize or couldn’t see. “My _life_!”

“Mine too,” he whispered back, and nonchalantly shrugged as if it meant nothing. With the following sentence, his voice grew louder, gaining the attention of everyone around them. “To put a stop to this war, the Rebellion needs to prevail! We take the higher risks with calculation, this isn’t something done without thought. Having Aria, King’s advisor, on our side means less casualties in the end. We have the advantage of knowing the enemy’s next plans... _and this shitshow will end quicker_.” He mumbled the remainder of that sentence in a rushed tone. With the sudden excitement in the crowd, Erik’s demeanor quickly changed to match it. Of course everyone wanted the Rebellion to be over. Of course everyone wanted a new ruler. Who wasn’t tired of the pain and suffering? But Aria wasn’t convinced, the risks were higher for her. They were too high. Her life was at stake, no matter which side she showed allegiance to. Traitor or martyr. It was her pick what she wanted to be.

“Cousin. Why me?”

“Because you’re close to the king,” another voice spoke. Aria knew immediately who it was. When the tall man’s bold steps neared, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Who else had such a loud presence by simply standing? 

Walter Beck. Advisor to the late Queen, and ex-advisor to the current King. He’d been a part of the court for decades, and Aria once had the luxury to play her pranks with him. But to see the old soldier all right, she found that to be an added blessing to the madness that had befallen Albion. He didn't look much different. Same grey hair, same brown eyes. Same build and height. Walter was preserved in time.

“Figures. I should’ve known death wouldn't be able to claim you,” she quipped back, crossing her arms.

“Ha! It’d be hard pressed to grab at me. I’ve loads of years left." His laughter was boisterous. Still, girl, this is your chance. You spent years complaining about the status of Albion. Let’s put it to good use.”

She huffed, puffing up her cheeks in childish retaliation. Whatever truth he spoke was overshadowed by the fact that she wasn’t safe to speak _her_ truth amidst present company. “Yes, yes! Say your lies.. I.. I _need_ time to think.”

“Then you’ll think here,” Page said. Her arm was already halfway up, ready to signal some soldiers to come over. Alas, Erik was quicker.

“She’s _finnneeee_ going back! My brother would have a fit knowing she’s missing!!... Besides, I _trust_ Aria, and I trust she’ll keep quiet.” The prince turned to her, and she quickly agreed with his statement with eager nods. “Okay. We’re all in agreement. We’ll be in touch…” He paused. “Stay safe cousin. _Please_.”

And before any more words could be exchanged, he left with Page, Walter, and the remaining soldiers. All except one. The one soldier that made Aria audibly groan. In that moment she felt lonely and empty. Her cousin was alive, and yet she couldn’t rejoice. These rebels held her life in their hands, and now she was even less safe than before. But there was nothing she could do except comply. Complying meant she’d stay alive until there was a moment for her to properly think things through. This wasn’t the place where she’d think. And it was time to leave. Even if leaving meant to go with Roy.

He led her through more dark tunnels. There were spaces Aria couldn’t possibly remember even if she drew out a map. It was complicated, and the smell didn’t help clear her mind. No soldiers around, and if she truly was braver, she would kill him before he killed her. Perhaps he was like De, taking her to a secluded spot to murder her. The effort of keeping everything a secret would be that much easier. Aria was scared. That's all it was. She knew better than to hurt the help that would get her out of here. She complied with his wishes and followed after, thinking to herself this roundabout exit was their way to ensure secrecy in the base. It was the most rational thought in her mind.

•••

They made it to the surface, and for the first time, Aria could appreciate Industrial air. The sewers were horrible, and no doubt made worse due to their location. She took a moment, looking around the space they were in: A thin alley that could barely hold the both of them, their bodies pressed against one another as they shimmied out to a larger alley. Unsticking herself from him, Aria noticed a key detail that made her noble side retch. She stopped in her tracks waiting for Roy to look back. It didn’t take long for him to turn. His arms folded across his chest as a questioning look passed across his features. Roy looked back at the alley exit, then to Aria. “Yes? Your Ladyship?”

“Ha ha. Hilarious. I can’t go out like this,” she gestured to herself. Her clothes were caked with dirt, blood, and sewage. There were tears at the sleeves and hem of her dress, her new cloak had taken most of the damage and was completely ruined . Even her hair had taken a dark sheen of brown, no doubt received while being thrown around by De. Aria looked like an absolute wretch. Thank _Avo_ her father was out of town.

“Not on the streets,” she continued. It was already evening, the sun had gone down, signaling workers that the day was done. The chances of citizens hanging around were high. This was the prime time to go to the taverns, or to walk around. It was shameful enough to have been dragged into a trap, but now she had to look like _this_ on top of it all?

“Aw,” Roy gave a faux-frown, distorting his face to look upset. “Fancy, wittle noble scared of looking like someone from Industrial? Scared of looking like the common people?”

“Common people?! Who?! I look like I’ve been lying with pigs!!” She pushed past him, storming out in the streets. “No person in their right minds… Looks like this!!”

“Oh? No? That’s not something you do often? I could’ve sworn all nobles squeal, must be genetics.” He followed after, expression taking on a different tone. Delight. Curiosity.

She shrieked, looking back at him with fury. His face found amusement in the situation, it was plain as day. Aria swore they’d reached the point of mortal enemies, if they weren’t already there. Every. Single. Conversation. Every single one he had goaded her, instigated her until she regretted even looking in the man’s direction. For someone she had known for only a total of two days, she sure found him insufferable for a rogue. Why wasn’t he more like the stories?! 

“I don’t!! No one does! That’s disgusting!”

“Keep complaining! How does it feel to be knocked down a peg?”

“It’s not that! My clothes are going to grab the attention of anyone with eyes!! Idiot!!”

“Idiot? Me?! Your clothes aren’t causing heads to turn, it’s your loud voice.”

He was right. The few people who were around began looking at them in question. How odd they must look. A dirty and screaming girl. A soldier yelling back. If anything, it’d be cause for concern anywhere else in Bowerstone. But this was Industrial. You minded your own business here. She wasn’t Aria the noblewoman: Advisor to the King, well-respected and protected. She was Aria the noblewoman: Advisor to the King who would be shot if her identity was revealed. And so, she quieted up, still keeping her firm tone and arguments ready to unleash. Still... perhaps she should be thankful her slobbish looks would be safe enough to get her out of Industrial.

“Then.. How am I going to go back to the castle… Or Millfields looking like this?”

“Fine. If you can’t wait, I’ll help. Here. Clean up!” Before she had time to protest, or even question what he planned, Roy pushed. It wasn’t a hard push, no, but it was enough to have her stumbling off the ledge and into the canal.

In a flurry of panic, Aria hands reached out in hopes she would grab _something_ to prevent her from falling. So when her fingers brushed against something wool, she instinctively grabbed on tight. Unknowingly, it was Roy’s coat, and he too was pulled along.

They both screamed bloody murder. Hurling at a fast speed, they barely avoided the stone walkways. Instead, relief washed through them when they plunged deep into the dirty waters. Within seconds, they arose with a sputter of coughs and more shouting. If they hadn’t drummed up attention from others, it was certain they had done it now. Whatever blessings they were counting were thrown out the window as they both continued screaming at each other, solidifying their fate to the guards.

“Bastard man!!!” Aria screamed, pulling at Roy’s sleeve for him to look at her. His eyes jumped up to look at the people above them. More gathered around, and the few Albion guards that patrolled the Industrial streets were called to investigate. Perhaps they were hoping it was drunks, and they’d drown soon… But no one wanted to see corpses floating down the canal so early in the week. The irritation lining his features was clear, and when he shot a look back Aria couldn’t help but make a face of her own.

“Why the _hell_ did _you_ do that??” he snarled out, splashing water in her direction.

“ _You_ did it to me, asshole!! What if I couldn’t swim?!”

“Oops?! Good thing you know! _Probably_ fucking _Konan_ taught you that, right?! _Actually_! Let me ask _why_ you read-”

A grunt interrupted the both of them. Two guards directly above them and both Aria and Roy kept quiet, looking at them with a startled expression akin to deer. The hopes the soldiers would go away or not see them was preferred. But no matter what they wished, it was evident that two screaming people were in the canal, and they needed to be kicked out. No amount of feigning innocence was going to change that.

“Good sirs-” Aria began, only to be splashed in the face again.

“Shut up you’re not suppos- Shit! Your hair!” Roy gritted his teeth, holding a strand of auburn hair. The sewage was finally washing out. Looking from Aria to the guards and back to her, she almost swore he looked apologetic. “Hold your breath.” Before she could complain, he pushed her under the water. Aria could feel him follow after, grabbing at her hand and propelling them forward. They swam deep in the waters, she could only tell by the pressure in her ears. What she assumed was debris and trash brushed past her arm, but Aria refused to look. Instead, she held tightly onto Roy’s hand. This time, she wasn’t about to argue and let go. The waters weren’t to be trusted.

They emerged further up the canal, a small ways away from the crowd. It was just enough distance for them to run away without the guards right on their tail. If they were lucky, there wouldn’t be a chase. 

Roy still held onto Aria’s hand, pulling her forward as they raced down the streets of Industrial to a darker portion of the city. Her lungs hurt and she wanted to cry. There wasn’t space or time to stop for breath but she desperately wanted to. She couldn’t even spare a coherent thought about where they were going. Far away from the guards, as long as they were far away.

The streets became darker and darker before Aria noticed the row of lamps lining in the distance. The bridge! It was the edge of the market district and she could feel the relief pass through her body. They slowed down to a stop, and Roy let go of Aria’s hand. She doubled over, falling to her knees. Her lungs desperately sought oxygen which was hard to come by, considering how much coughing she was doing.

“Look at you! Picture perfect, all clean!” Roy laughed, gesturing to the whole of Aria. His own breath was ragged, she could hear it. And there was no point in playing tough. Roy fell against the side of a building, watching her carefully as he tried to level his own breathing. There was defeat behind that smile. Perhaps he wasn’t preparing for such an outcome. Neither was Aria, if she was to be honest with herself. Never did she expect an argument to turn into a race against the guards. This may be a lesson for the both of them.

Aria sighed. She got her wish after all. But her clothes were officially ruined. No amount of tailoring would get her dress and cloak back into its original condition. The blood and dirt had smeared off, but the holes and tears were there to stay. 

“What a hero. _Thanks_ ,” she snarled, before sighing at the sorry state they were in. At least they were in the marketplace, far enough away from where most of the citizens would be. The streets here were dark and perfect to move around without alerting anyone else. The castle wasn't an option anymore, but Millfields? She could do it. Make it back to Millfields without alerting anyone. Aria knew she had that in her. Though… the prospect of getting past the jail cells made her weary.

“Anytime, _dear_.” Roy huffed out. A pause, looking around before softening his tone. “Honestly. Do you need help getting out?”

“What? So I can get pushed into the canal again?”

“This time I’ll be the one arrested, so no. No pushing. We play nice here. More Royals than Rebels here tonight.” 

' _Ah, the guards_.' It made sense why he suddenly had the decency to behave. She mulled over his offer and simply shook her head. Aria had this in her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d run past them in a sorry state. “No need, _dear_.”

Pulling at the string of her cloak, she handed the tattered attire piece to Roy as he backed away in confusion. He let it drop, not even bothering to take it from her. Unsure of what she wanted, his eyebrows raised. He looked wordlessly from her to the cloak and back at her. "What do you want me to do with that?" A small blush rose in her cheeks, and Aria turned her nose upward.

“Take it! Burn it! Or-or something!” She snapped, unsure why she had done that theatrical stunt. With the shake of her head she went forward, walking towards the gates leaving Roy alone with a wave of her hand. Her face was in a full blush, and she felt mortified. What an idiot. Was she really that incompetent around men like him? She read plenty of stories... Aria knew what the results should be, but why was it so hard? 

She looked down, her hand still holding onto the feeling of warmth… “Stupid girl… It would never work.” ' _He’s not going to fit your mold_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These past few chapters have been a little short, but I hope to remedy that soon. Chapter 6 is a bit different, so I'm prepping for that and hopefully you'll be excited. We're going to delve into another character's mindset and drive. Stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you for making it this far! Comments are always welcome and I'd love to chat c: Kudos also appreciated! And if you have any writing tips, I'd really love to hear them. I spent some time reediting previous chapters, correcting some mistakes - but I know there's always more to improve upon.
> 
> Until next time!


	6. Interlude: Dreams and Desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik Tucker - rebel prince and conflicted brother - goes with Page to save members of the Revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of Violence/Mild Language

By title, Erik Tucker was a prince of Albion. Although, his country had a different opinion on what this meant for him. He would never live up to the image of royalty. His personality was much too foolish. Too immature. Too wild… brash… childish… There were plenty of names that described the prince. The people have shoved him aside for more favorable figures, such as Logan, even Aria. Their tact, age, and background was powerful. Everyone wanted to know about them.

When the Queen died of an unknown illness, no one even batted an eyelash at the thought of who would lead. Of course the eldest son would. Not only was he the heir, but he was completely capable of making hard decisions for the betterment of the country. It was perfect.

Logan was quiet and merciless. As expected, his reign was entirely different from the Queen’s. It could be said that all the decisions were driven by something other than personal gain… But who was to say. Albion grew tired of their King and wanted him gone. Finally! The foolish prince was useful! A foolish prince was much more manageable, and he’d fit the desires of the people. He was the perfect person to put up as a replacement.

Erik went along with it the day he left the castle. He knew himself better than the rumors and what people liked to say. Of course he wasn’t invincible or malleable, but no one needed to know that just yet. While Logan was the quiet one, and kept his emotions behind a locked door, Erik was just as clever. The prince still had some time before he would have to show the world his true motivation. Until then, he still had plenty of time to think of a plan, and he wasn’t about to let up and lose control. He was so close to achieving his wish. So close… 

When Aria had arrived - through unexpected methods that nearly cost her her life - Erik nearly gave up his carefully placed facade. What he wanted was to take a controlled approach, and meet her on equal footing. Ease her up to the idea of working with the Resistance, and see if it was something she could do. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. She was thrown into the fray, her life forfeit if she didn’t comply to the standards the rebels imposed. It was an unfair trade… Much like his, when he thought about it. 

Though, unlike Erik, he had advantages that his cousin did not have. His status and life behind closed doors provided him the accessibility to move around freely. Go around and help the people of Albion without the Crown becoming aware. It was easy for Erik to find allies and friends with the people he came across. But it was late in the game, and it would be difficult for Aria to have a fair jumping point. She did not have the same luck, or advantages that he did, and it terrified the prince. Her image was public and well-known.

“Your Highness… Let’s talk.”

Page’s voice broke through the silence. She always managed to catch him in the off-moments, but never judged him for the way he carried himself in these times - or at least, she didn’t let the judgment show on her face. 

A perfectly placed expression from her was enough to get the prince to falter even more. He stayed rigid, arms locked straight as he looked over an Albion map held by rusty tacks. More tacks marked spots where the rebels had gained assistance, or where expecting to receive supplies from, amongst numerous other things. They had gone over the map a hundred times, until their vision went hazy, and minds went blank.

Erik wasn’t sure how to feel about Page half of the time. For one, she was the Revolution’s leader and had a plan for everything. It was hard to argue with her, for she was always right in how she wanted things done. But he respected her, that would always hold true. Some moments he thought there was something… _more_ between them than camaraderie. Perhaps dark halls and hushed whispers could make a person see something that… maybe just… wasn’t there? 

Was it unattainable? Were they just desires? Erik shook his head clear of those thoughts. Whatever he felt was probably unrequited and foolish. 

He could feel her stare on his back. She was waiting for his response. With the jut of his head, he gestures for her to sit somewhere. His thoughts were elsewhere, and he paid more attention to the outline of the map than any of the contents written in the margins. There was so much going on with this war… They were lucky that the neighboring villages were willing to help them out, but it wasn’t enough. More soldiers, more resources… They needed _more_ in order for the Revolution to work out. Forget his plan. If they couldn’t get through the gates, then he couldn’t do what needed to be done.

The door closed behind her, and she approached. Standing by his side, Page was able to see everything that Erik could. The map, the papers, documents, tickets, and receipts. Everything was out in the open. A reminder that even when the day was done, there was still a job to do. When he looked over, meeting her brown eyes, the prince saw the critical and questioning gaze of the Resistance’s leader.

It was safe to falter in her presence, Erik had eventually figured that out. Weeks of hiding his exhaustion had taken a toll, and it was Page who helped him through a fainting spell. The prince was disappointed in himself, mostly for appearing unreliable and weak - the people wanted a fabled Hero prancing around saving them from a tyrant, not a regular person. But Page understood, she too was a fabled person in the eyes of Albion, and she knew the value of rest and expected that the people working for knew to take time for themselves - even if just for a few minutes. People tripping over their feet would never win a war. She wanted everyone at their best.

“Right. You wanted to talk,” the prince responded. Aches tore through his body as he shifted from his spot. All he wanted to do right now was rest, to take this quiet moment and get away from it all. So much needed to be fixed, Erik knew he didn’t have the time to play around. 

“I did,” Page replied with another smile. Her hands hovered in the air, waiting until Erik was steady enough to walk by himself. With a satisfied nod, she took a seat in one of the chairs scattered around the room. They were deep in the labyrinth known as the sewer, somewhere underneath the Marketplace, and safe from most harm. Logan’s men were unlikely to find them, and the gangs never approached the areas that were occupied by a large group.

They kept more decoration in this area, trying to create some semblance of life. The furniture was nicked from garbage dumps, or scraped together by the trash floating around. It wasn’t even close to the life of luxury Erik was raised in, but after months on the road, it was easy to appreciate something as small as a chair. 

“This will be difficult…” she continued. Her lips pressed together, and her brows knitted deep in thought. Eventually, letting out a sigh, Page continued. “Aria. Why should we trust her?”  
There was no mincing of words and it left Erik scoffing. _‘Was that supposed to be a serious question?’_

“Page, honestly? We talked about this during the meeting.” He couldn’t help but grab the bridge of his nose. Tension had built up in his head, rewarding him with an agonizing migraine. “I understand that you, and many others, will need to take time to learn to trust her… but know that I do not make the decision without thinking. She wants to better Albion, and here we are providing the chance. She’s incredibly intelligent, and would help out our people in the castle.”

“She has yet to prove herself to-”

“She has yet to be given the _chance_ to prove herself.” Erik sighed again, letting a wind of air leave his mouth. The tension in his head grew, and he found himself leaning back against the seat. Head facing the ceiling. Following the intricate pipe system with his eyes, he let the pattern ease his mind. “What is she going to do? Run around Bowerstone, gaining renown? Knock on some doors and offer Hero services? I refuse to let my cousin build some semblance of a rebel reputation by doing the same thing. She’s in a different light. It’s harder for her.”

“So, you’re going to make excuses on her behalf?”

“It’s not an excuse!” He snapped, jolting forward in his seat. “The Court… You know how they are. If you’re in it, you’re in the public’s eye. Ready to be judged and scrutinized. Everything they do… It’s more attention than I’ve ever received. Ha!” A bitter laugh leaves his mouth, and Erik is once again leaning against the chaise longue. “No one really knows my face. Do you remember how surprised everyone was when I introduced myself?” 

The feeling of distance reflected across his eyes. Erik felt it. Every time there was silence, he was reminded of his own status around the world. While he relished in catching people by surprise, he found it to be off putting to be disregarded so easily.

It took her a moment before she responded. Page’s voice was quiet at first, and then she coughed, letting her voice become louder without losing its softness. It was a voice reserved only for him, and only for their private talks. “You’re important, Erik. Never forget that. You made a difference, know that no one will ever see you as an afterthought. There’s a lot you have to offer.”

“I know I’m not an afterthought,” his own tone softened. “I just have to remind myself of its advantage, and treat it as such. It doesn’t do any good to make it my weakness.” Now, more relaxed, he stretched out lazily. Legs propped up on the table nearby, and neck resting on the top rail of his chair. 

She wanted him to elaborate, his words had a tendency for her to become frustrated. But the prince said nothing, letting out a knowing smile. Page could only sigh. It was difficult to get anything out of him when he wasn’t ready to share. And sometimes, it seemed like he would never be ready. 

“Anything else you want to talk about?” he asked. Using the crook of his arm to block out the light, Erik felt himself grow weary. This was one of the first moments of rest he’d been able to have since a very long time. Between running away from the castle, to running across the country gaining support, Erik never felt at ease. Nightmares plagued his mind, and he feared going to sleep lest they return. Nothing would ever go back to being normal, and it was something he’d have to accept. So, when drowsiness appeared, he relished the break, knowing that it’d be interrupted at any second. 

“Not really. Although-” Page began, only to be interrupted by a succession of quick raps at the door. Erik groaned, knowing that his own thoughts had cursed them. He straightened up, watching the door while listening to the unceasing knocks. A pleading voice from the other side was enough to get Page to move and open the door. 

A soldier ran in. Short and skinny, one of the runners between bases. He was younger than anyone, and was barely an adult. A thin sheen of sweat plastered his forehead, and he was left heaving. It took a moment for Page to calm him down before he continued.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, it’s horrible” He breathed out, grabbing at the door frame. “One of the bases was taken!”

Page grew tense. A chill filled the room as she immediately went for her weapons. The holster of two pistols wrapped around her waist, and a sword strapped to her back. She looked at the soldier, then to Erik. Whoever took the base, that was something to be concerned about. Either the Crown was catching up to them fast… Or the gangs were targeting the less occupied spaces, hoping to take back their sewers. If they really had to choose, they hoped for the latter.

“Where and who!?” Questions left Page’s mouth at a rapid-fire pace. Erik stood, collecting his own weapons, ready to follow her. Most of his weapons were ready to go, his sword and rifle were always taken care of. Though… He flicked his wrists, letting a small surge of magic charge his gloves. 

The Will portion of his Hero abilities continued to be the bane of his existence. So badly he wanted to be rid of the gloves, but he was a fledgling. Without them, he wouldn’t be able to cast spells or dream of having anything to do with magic… It was necessary to keep them on until he had proper training. Still, they were a damn nuisance and he would be glad to be done with them. Itchy, stupid things.

“Southeast! Near the Old Town docks… Cave area… It-it looked like a gang. Some rat-animal tattooed on their arms, and brown bands-”

“It’s Ferret.” Page didn’t have to hear anything else in order to figure out who was behind the attack. 

They had to move now. Nigel Ferret was always bad news, and a thorn at their sides. Not only was his gang persistent at attacking rebel territory, they were also brutal with their methods. The other gangs were never this big of a problem, and they mostly kept to smuggling or stealing. Rarely murder, blackmail, or kidnapping - key factors in Ferret’s work. He had terrorized Industrial for years, only working harder when the Revolution began.

Page pushed past the soldier, already running towards the direction of the base. Erik paused. On one hand ready to fight alongside her. On the other…

“We’re going in. Tell Walter and Swift where we are.” 

Before the soldier could respond, Erik was already off.

•••

When the distant sound of crashing waves reached their ears they slowed down to a stop. The sea was close by, a perfect place for smugglers. Or, revolutionists trying to get equipment without alerting anyone. Unfortunately, it was left mostly abandoned when a ship from Oakfield was caught trying to help the Rebellion. The base was covered up and concealed, Page wasn’t going to let anyone in the Crown learn about the secret entrances or the tunnel system hidden beneath the city. Eventually, a month later, she brought back some people to watch over. Claim the spot, she’d tell everyone.

Now it was taken over by Ferret’s men. The thought was enough to make Erik go pale. Whatever happened to those soldiers was not good. Ferret had a reputation, and it definitely extended to them. 

Page most likely had the same thought, her jaw was clenched tightly when Erik turned to look. Her breathing was heavy, and she inhaled for a number of seconds before letting it all out in a huff. A method to reign in control, just like Erik had to. It was a trick Walter had taught them, annoyed that both faces of the Resistance were secret hotheads. This furthered the connection between the prince and Page. They were two sides of the same coin. Different backgrounds and lifestyles, but connected in different ways.

After another deep breath, she reassured herself with a nod. Ready to go, and ready to fight. Page looked over at Erik, pressing a finger to her lips. Staying silent would provide them the advantage, especially if they played their cards right. She moved forward, silent as a mouse.

Erik mimicked her actions, creeping alongside the wall, and walking on the balls of his feet. He lowered himself, trying not to blow their cover by sticking out like a sore thumb. 

The sun had set before they arrived, thus masking the hideout in a dim light provided by candles and the occasional metal brazier. Natural light was gone, and they would have to trust the poor lighting in the room to guide them. It provided them with enough cover to sneak around, so it wasn’t too bad.

Page’s hand shot up, signaling for them to stop. For a moment, he waited and watched, letting her assess the situation and how much trouble they’d be putting themselves in. She tapped at the wall, all five fingers hitting the stone twice. Ten men. Or at least ten men. There could always be more lurking about in the other rooms. Definitely a challenge.

“Any of ours,” Erik leaned forward, whispering the words in her ear.

She shook her head. Perhaps the other rebels were put somewhere safe, a hostage or blackmailing situation. Ferret was known to do that, but only if he wanted something. Otherwise, the other option was murder. 

Erik knew how much the Resistance and its people meant to Page. To keep it together, they needed a strong leader who was willing to take risks who also _cared_. She was both of those things. While she wasn’t blind to the fact that people would die because of their movement, she wasn’t going to carelessly throw their lives away. Needless sacrifice was never on the agenda.

“Should we get backup?”

Page turned back to look at him. For a moment, her brows furrowed and she looked to the side. Eventually, she looked back up at the prince. “No. We can do this.”

They were close… How often they found themselves whispering in dark halls, with their arms brushing together… Sometimes he wanted to ask her if… No. Asking her about something other than the mission would be foolish. There were always other moments. Now wasn’t one of them.

“Go big and bold?” Erik interrupted his own thoughts, letting the corner of his mouth perk up. 

“Yes.” Before he could move, she grabbed his shoulder. The wagging of her finger sent him into a small fit of laughter which he could only keep contained by biting down on his lower lip. “Keep the damage contained. We’re coming back to this place.. And I want our boys to be survivors, not victims.”

He sobered up, nodding fiercely. Of course. That was something he could do. Erik swept past her, already letting a small crackle of electricity run between his fingers. In plain view he could see the numerous bandits sitting around. What a perfect time to attack…

Lightning and ice leave his hands, creating a strong mix of elements that covered the surrounding area. A thick mist encompassed the room, and the prince could hear the damage done from his spell. Thuds and groans as electricity crackled in the air, sending some of the weaker thugs to their death. The stronger stayed put. Erik could see their silhouettes when a crackle of violet lit up the room. Cursing, he ran for cover, using a stray wall as a shield before they picked him off. 

Page stepped into the fray, pistols out ready to pick off the figures she could see. She was quick and agile while fighting, Erik noticed it the first time they went on a mission together. While she didn’t have the luck that Ben did, or the finesse of Swift, or even the strength Walter carried, Page was a terror on the battlefield. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation when she handled a blade, using the surrounding elements to her advantage. Never did she feel out of place, even in unknown territory. 

Erik looked back at the entrance in which he and Page came from, cursing to himself once again. As expected, more of Ferret’s men joined the fray. They came from all sides, and were stronger looking than some of the others. The prince switched to his rifle with the intent of picking them off of Page while she worked the main room. For a moment, it worked, before other weapons were thrown into the mix.

Molotovs flew in the air, driving the two of them further apart. It was already difficult to communicate in this mess, but now it was impossible. He couldn’t see where she dove, and Erik was aware that she probably couldn’t see him.

“The gods have cursed me.” Erik needed to think fast, or both of them would be dead. They were outnumbered, and in a tight situation. He’d have to trust in her intuition and hope she knew what to do when the time came.

Will surged through his veins, the prince could feel it, and electricity flickered against his palms. The glove did most of the work allowing a bolt of pure lighting to shoot through the air, catching one of the bandits. Through the smoke he could see his magic work just as intended. Purple and white clashed together, shocking the thug into place before shooting out in a tendril. Others in his vicinity suffered the same fate.

It became quieter, shooting wise. The crackle of electricity and flames were still going strong, but the amount of enemies they faced were beginning to diminish. They were still outnumbered, but Erik couldn’t help but grin. 

“Page.” The thought of her hit is mind, and he cursed himself. Not only did he forget to keep damage to a minimum, he also forgot that Page was amidst it all. Her intuition was fantastic, it had saved his skin dozens of times. Yet, magic was unpredictable - especially when casted by Erik. He scrambled forward towards her last seen location. She was somewhere, he had to find her.

Flames from the molotovs signed his clothes, threatening to injure when he approached too closely. The prince moved forward looking for her, shrugging off the pain. While he loathed scars, he’d be damned if that stopped him from helping Page. 

A grand sigh of relief left his lips when he saw her, using a crumbling wall as cover. “Thank the Light!”

“Your Highness!” she breathed out when he crouched down. Her relief made him smile, and Erik was glad she was okay… Or partially okay. Red blood bloomed from underneath her shirt, and his breath hitched. As if she could read his mind, Page only shook her head. Her laughter was sweet, no doubt because of his expression. “It’s just a graze. Probably looks worse than it is.”

“Should we retreat?” The words left his mouth before he could comprehend them. Immediately the prince regretted saying them, for Page’s face contoured from gleeful to disgusted. 

“No!” she snapped, biting her tongue to prevent whatever else she was about to say. For a moment, she stayed silent, eyes averted from Erik. “I shouldn’t have, I’m sor-”

“You don’t have to apologize, least of all to me.” Erik watched her expression, waiting for the change. When it did, he finally nodded in agreement. “We’re in this together. Right, staying then. Hold them off, I have a plan.”

Page wasted no time by asking questions. Instead, she traded out her pistols for the rifle and began to shoot. The odd combination of mist and smoke dwindled down, the room becoming an uncomfortable temperature. Too many enemies were still around, and Page shuddered. How long had the base been overtaken? Was it sudden, or planned? Where were the other rebels? Hopefully they were still alive.

Erik pulled off a gauntlet with his teeth so his hands could open one of the side bags. In a small fit he spit out the glove. A string of curses left his mouth as he moved on to another bag, rummaging through its contents to find what he needed. How hard was it to find a magic glove? The damn things were colorful and had a gold symbol on them. It shouldn’t be difficult… It wasn’t like he stuffed his bags full of unnecessary junk.

He peeked up at Page, checking on her progress. She was focused, going in and out of cover. For a moment, she spared him a glance. To her surprise, the prince was dumping his inventory onto the ground, rummaging in a racoon-like fashion. Bandages, salves, and a pack of bullets poured out onto the ground, as well as three neatly rolled gauntlets.

“Thank Jaspar, the man with sense!”

“What?” Page asked, before shaking her head, dismissing the thought. There wasn’t any need to decode his words now. She worked quickly, taking a handful of bullets to reload the rifle. The rest were tucked into her pocket. Erik, on the other hand, was ready to get back into the fray. Slipping on the second gauntlet was quick. Already, magic began to work its way through. Aria would be proud to see him inherit the Queen’s Will abilities. Although, she’d probably laugh for his lack of experience. He was at the level of a child, having to rely on gauntlets. In any other situation, he’d probably laugh as well. But there was too much going on to properly train, and Erik would have to make due.

“Ready?” Page asked, flicking her attention to the glove and then to him. A grin spread across her face which the prince found infectious. He too was grinning, already nodding with the eagerness of a child.

“Ready!”

He stood - giving the bandits no time to respond to an open target - a massive blend of fire and lightning was unleashed upon them. The room turned a brilliant shade of yellow, blinding anyone in vicinity. Erik shut his eyes, the magic still flitting around the room in a dangerous swirl of pure chaos. And when there was nothing left of his Will, the prince sunk down to the ground. 

Yellow light soon turned to red and then to an impossible color of blue, before dwindling down to nothingness. Whatever unbearable heat that was in the room moments ago, changed as the sea breeze blew in. Finally, he was able to open his eyes.

Page was already peeking around their cover. “That’s.. I think that’s all of them. Let’s check for stragglers.”

Erik’s breathing was heavy, a clear sign that the spell had taken its toll on him. For a Hero, he wasn’t even close to his prime. Like a person learning how to sprint long distances, he had no endurance for this stuff quite yet. Even after three months of constant use, the abilities of Skill, even Strength seemed to come more naturally than the ability of Will. A bitter laugh left his mouth. He wasn’t on par with the ancients, and probably never would be. Did his mother have these same problems when she started out?

“I can go alone.” Page was gentle with her words, and Erik could only shake his head.

“No…” He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

She watched him with concern. Only after a minute did Page nod, letting him rest. The sound of lingering flames, crashing waves, and Erik’s breathing were there as ambience. He sat there, back pressed against the cool wall, Page tended to her injury. Like she had predicted, it looked much worse than it was. Surely it would leave a scar, but Page didn’t care about such things as much as Erik did. He hated the look of scars on his body, and preferred not to have them at all. Perhaps that was why Skill came for easily to him - he wanted to pick his enemies from afar before they could get too close to leave their mark.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the gentle noises in the air, and the two of them stiffened. While Erik’s breath had already returned to him, he was still in no shape for a proper fight. But he didn’t have the luxury of choosing battles. Taking a hold of Page’s pistols, he began to sit up, ready to move.

“I thought we got all of them,” Page’s brows furrowed as she too leaned forward, rifle in hands, ready to strike. “Backup?”

“It better be _our_ backup…”

They both let a sigh of relief when the telltale red of the old guard’s uniform came into view. Not only were the rebels here, but along came Ben and Walter strutting into view. They were late, but here they were regardless.

“It’s just you..” Erik sighed, immediately slumping against the wall, unwilling to put up an appearance now.

“Aren’t happy to see us?” Ben laughed, approaching them with a wry smile.

“ _Thrilled_.” Page’s voice was lined with a certain brand of dry as she rolled her eyes at the soldier. Of course, it wasn’t just the fact that Ben was a soldier - Page never trusted them to begin with - this was something else entirely. Erik often wondered why she was readily against the man - although, his poor pick up lines probably didn’t help. Still, there was no mistaking an underlying issue that the prince could never put his finger on. They didn’t appear to be enemies, but something was holding them back from being friends.

Ben shook his head, letting out a playful laugh. It was then he looked at the chaos behind them and let out a long whistle. No doubt there was an excessive amount of damage and destroyed items, not to mention bodies and blood. Erik hadn’t the second to look, now he wasn’t sure he wanted to. That last spell was a doozy, and it would take time to sort through everything and salvage materials. 

“ _Erik Tucker_! What’s gotten into you, boy?!” 

Walter approached with his big, fiery steps. Erik couldn’t help but flinch at his mentor’s tone. It was a tone reserved for the biggest of screw-ups, and the prince only faced it twice in his life. Once for running off with Elise during Logan’s coronation. And the other… The other was during Sparrow’s memorial service. It was a bad day for them all, and the moment was never brought up again. 

“All we heard was that you and Page had run off without any backup, into enemy territory. You were lucky that runner was as quick and thorough as he was! Otherwise you’d both be dead. Page! This applies to you!”

She turned back for a second, already away from the burly man and towards the chaos. When Erik peeked to see what she was doing, Page was hunched over a body searching for something of value. Rebels and soldiers surrounded her, waiting for instruction, which she gave in the form a silent glare. Off they went. Some splitting off to search the other rooms in the base, and some mimicked her actions and began to pick through the rubble. 

“Both of you!” Walter continued. “Important people. The faces of the Resistance running into danger and death. What would have happened if you both died?”

“We would have died.” Erik was exhausted, his filter had been depleted hours ago. Of course the sentence he just said sent him reeling back with regret. There was no taking it back now. They would be having an argument now of all places. 

“Are you _daft_?!”

“Sometimes,” Erik shot back. By now, his breathing had leveled and he wasn’t about to argue sitting down. 

Standing proved to be a challenge. His legs felt wobbly and stiff all at the same time, the feeling brought him back down to the ground. He cursed all the gods he could think of, why did his body have to give out now? 

_‘So be it.’_ The prince groaned, looking away from the others. It was only Walter standing about, the rest had decided to leave them alone. Though, Erik could see Ben lingering from the corner of his eye, waiting to step in if need be. “As the faces of the Resistance, we aren’t going to sit around while change needs to be done. Lead by example, isn’t that what you said? For change to happen, action needs to come first. If someone else won’t do it, we have to do it.”

Walter let out a groan, grabbing at the bridge of his nose. “Yes. I did say that. But-” he held up a finger before Erik could protest, “- you need to survive. We’re here to fix Albion from your brother’s rule. The Resistance is there to stop Logan.”

“Then we best go after the others, not just him.” A second wind lifted him, and Erik found himself standing, stepping over to the man. 

They were the same height. Tall and imposing. Sometimes he found it odd how similar they were. Erik often wondered how much alike he was to his real father. The man died before he was born, and Erik could only rely on Logan’s accounts of the man to keep his imagination satisfied. Perhaps the prince looked to Walter as a replacement for someone he’d never get the chance to meet.

“You worked alongside my brother, you _know_ it’s more than just him.” The words left his mouth in a forced whisper. They were bitter and emphasized the prince’s point. The shadows around Logan weren’t just figments of someone’s imagination. They weren’t demons or shadow creatures. These shadows were real people. Of course Erik wasn’t going to believe that Logan was innocent of all the crimes committed, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to villainize one person when there was a whole group needing to be punished. 

Walter said nothing else. They’d had plenty of arguments about the subject. The conversation always ended the same: Silence or anger. Today it was the former, probably because of the amount of people around. 

“While this is all invigorating, let’s get back to work. Shall we?” Ben interjected. Mostly Swift was there to de-escalate their worst fights, but his second-in-command was capable of such tasks if the time came. It probably was part of the rebel training, as Ben liked to joke about. Speaking of… 

“Where’s Swift?” Erik asked, finally taking the moment to look around the room. It was still a disaster. The rebels stationed here were found to be alive, a miracle While bandit bodies were piled into a corner, and rubble was cleared out of the way. Page was amidst it all, giving out verbal orders before returning to a stack of papers in her hand. Focused and intent… Erik found himself staring before being jolted back to reality by Ben’s voice.

“On the road to Oakfield, getting supplies and rations for the upcoming winter. Shame, it’d be nice to visit the farms.” Ben shrugged, looking blissfully to the side. “Too bad Page doesn’t condone raiding, otherwise we’ll be living off of Bowerstone supplies with nothing to worry about.”

“And _you_ do?” She shot back, looking up from her papers. Erik’s eyes widened. Her ears were sharper than expected, and he found himself snickering at the thought that nothing got past her.

“Not at all, darling,” Ben quipped back. “Just making sure you’re paying attention to me.”

“Shut up, Ben.”

“Enough! Enough!” Walter bellowed, already halfway to Page. “Let’s get this cleaned up and repaired. We might be able to move supplies from Westcliff or Bloodstone to here.”

A bout of laughter echoed in the room, revealing the presence of Roy. “Bloodstone doesn’t give a _shit_ about the cause here. They’ve been talking for years about how useless Bowerstone is.”

“Err.. Well that is true,” Ben grimaced, finding himself agreeing with Roy. “The lot there have been anti-Crown way before any of us.”

Erik didn’t know much about Roy, except that he was originally from Bloodstone and had been friends with Ben for years. The two joined the Swift Brigade around the same time, and survived the fort attack. Anything else, the prince wasn’t aware of. Even the rumors seemed to hold an air of… disbelief. He never had time to talk to the rogue, or ever seemed to find him when he did. And now... Roy was trusted to watch Aria and keep her safe. This wasn’t what Erik had planned at all.

“Anyway, mate, how’d you get in here?” Whatever Ben was doing had been stopped, all his attention was on Roy.

“Came from Old Town, Lackey’s basement. Bastard wouldn’t _shut up_ about how we _all_ had to come down here,” Roy shook his head, stray droplets of water falling out of his dark hair. In fact, looking closer, Erik could see that the man was drenched from head to toe. Wet, partially ripped clothes clung to his skin. Roy looked exhausted, and it was a far cry from his usual charming appearance. 

“Where’s my cousin?” the prince asked, looking over Roy’s appearance once again. If he looked like this… What did that mean for Aria?

“Hopefully in Millfields by now,” the rogue replied. “We had a small problem with the guards, but she’s safe. That’s what you're asking?”

“One of many things, but yes, thank you.”

Satisfied with the lackluster response, Roy takes off to Page’s side. He was quick to join the others in looking around and searching. Everyone else had a job and was ready to take back their location… Except the prince, who stood there, watching it all go on.

Erik could only sigh, grabbing the bridge of his nose. It was all fine in the end, but what a nightmare. The argument, his lack of knowledge about Roy, everything. Everything was driving him up the wall, and everything he wanted felt so out of reach. 

The sound of the sea brought him back, and Erik finds himself drawn to it. Stepping closer to the cave’s mouth, he could see all the beauty outside. Moonlight reflected across the dark waters, stars graced the sky. A gorgeous sight. Out of all things, he wished to bask in the moment for eternity. Live a lavish lifestyle with no worries in the world.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Erik wasn't living a blissful castle life anymore. The past was just that, the past. He had to adjust, change his desires, or be crushed in the process.

“Oh, this is nice.” Ben approached, leaning against the other side of the entrance. For a while, he watched the sea, letting it drown out the sound of commands and arguments happening behind them.

“Weren’t you helping them?” the prince said, unable to stay silent any longer. 

“Yelled at, once again.” Ben laughed. He only shrugged his shoulder, looking down at his feet, and then the small ledge in front of them. “Come on. The old smuggler in me wants to check out the path.” 

Erik complied, jumping down from the ledge and followed after the soldier. Thick shrubs and trees blocked the entrance, and tall grasses hid a stone path leading up to it. Walter was right when he insisted on using this place again. The closer the war came, the more everyone realized they were at a severe disadvantage without supplies and hiding spots.

“Nice place, honestly.” Ben exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air as he did a small spin. The satisfied smile on his face was enough for Erik to guess that this was smuggler-approved, and perfect for use. It was time to call in favors from the other cities, especially the port towns.

“Agreed… Bloodstone really won’t help us?”

“It’s highly doubtful, my friend. They’re honestly a group of folks that think law is stupid. So you won’t be finding any troublemakers ready to jump at the chance to help troublemakers here.”

They went further down the path, stopping at the small bank of sand piled there. The location to the Old Town Beach was quite a distance away. There was a blockage of stones, providing them more cover from anyone looking around. Seriously, this was a grand location.

A question lingered in Erik’s mind. It was the sort of question he needed an answer to right away, lest something threatened the safety of those around him. “Say, Ben.. You know Roy well enough-”

“Are you worried about Aria?”

It wasn’t the suddenness of the question, but the twinge of care when speaking her name, that made Erik pause. Maybe - just maybe - joining them wouldn’t mean a death sentence for Aria. But he wasn’t about to put blind faith in his allies just because he was comfortable with them. Aria was no doubt struggling with the thought of joining them, and for good reason. They were strangers, save for Erik and Walter. 

“She’s my family, I’m always worried about my family.”

“Well, Roy’s changed over the years. We both did, especially after joining Swiftie. He’s an alright bastard. He won’t undermine you or Page, so I’m sure it’ll turn out fine.”

Erik let out a humorless laugh, kicking at a stray rock. “Great. He’s _loyal_.”

“ _And_ bloody annoying!

“Make sure he doesn’t do something he’ll regret.”

Before Ben could question, the prince turned on his heel, trudging up the veiled path before disappearing into the hideout’s entrance. The soldier gave one last look at the water, longing for the chance to be out on the seas once more. But that would be for another time, perhaps when everything was said and done. 

“Page and Wallie should be done by now,” he mumbled. A smile crept on his features. It was time for Ben to return to the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally got this up! This was a longer chapter so thank you for reading. 
> 
> We'll be back to Aria in the next chapter, but this isn't the last you've heard of the prince. Erik will have a few more chapters from his POV. The Hero of Brightwall can be mysterious from time to time, and I really want to show and develop his personality when I can - especially since he won't get as much screen time as some of the others.
> 
> As always, I appreciate comments and kudos! If you want to talk, ask questions, or provide constructive criticism, I'll be here


	7. Fragments of Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As part of the rebel's wishes, Aria goes through a test to show where her allegiances lie. When it is all said and done, a lot goes through her mind.

Days had gone by without word from the rebels. Aria was convinced they had either forgotten about her, or were planning her untimely demise. Only one of those options worked in her favor, the other was something she’d like to avoid. 

It was funny, that with matters of history and courtroom etiquette she was second to none, but when it came to anything else, her anxiety soared, taking away the confidence she had built up. She could have spent the time working up the courage to do what needed to be done, practicing a brave face, or channeling the assertiveness that Reaver had. Instead, she decided to wait with her fears. Opting to spend time with books and their words, and reliving the past through sentences and paragraphs. There were hundreds to go through, even after all these years. And with luck, she would find a hundred more and live long enough to read them all. Books were safe. They didn’t knock on the door demanding your loyalty and life.

Logan had questioned her absence on that fateful night with Erik and the others, and all Aria could do was lie. At least, this time, it was a little lie. She had simply told him she was busy, and that was that. While he appeared to believe her, Aria couldn’t help but see a pang of sadness cross his face. Perhaps he was also hoping she’d stop by just like old times.

•••

Spending time at the castle proved to be fruitful, at least in calming her worry regarding the rebels. There was much to do, and the courtroom required her attention whenever she was there. One stressor was traded for another, and for a time, Aria was pleased with it. At least she could manage this fight better than the other. Other advisors were quick to bombard her with their ideas and plans, especially now.

This day marked an important one for the court: Proposal day. It was a quarterly event in which each advisor would create treaties and proposals and share them with the court and hopefully win Logan’s approval. Aria herself had never participated, until now. 

Most advisors stuck to Albion, but Aria wanted to shine and seek help outside of the country. It was time for Albion to build alliances and grow as a country. It was impossible to rely on solely oneself, and Samarkand was a good next step. They were a grand country, full of trade routes and specialized weaponry. It would be good for Albion to expand.  
Whenever such a mention was made before, the others would groan and argue. That it wasn’t the time, or that they’d be of no help. There were plenty of “ _good_ ” nobles in Albion, and by good she meant horrid. Most favorite was a man who went by the name Lord Harriman. 

He was a greedy bastard and exploited the regular citizens of Albion. Surprisingly, her father wasn’t a fan of the man. Reaver called him a parasite, leaching off of the success of everyone and claiming it as his own. And as much as Reaver complained, he did not move against the man.

Aria highly suspected this wasn’t due to fear, but instead due to the fact that if Harriman was out of the picture, that meant more money coming out of Reaver’s pockets. And that was something to be avoided at all costs.

Unfortunately, this Lord was the first person Aria saw as she entered the castle foyer. The staff gave him a wide berth, he was a plague for them. Get too close and become tainted by the scent of his wealth and greed. If you were unfortunate enough to be in his way, there’d be hell to pay.

He made his way up a set of stairs, proud and unbothered, with two personal guards in tow. Aria was far too late in jumping out of his view, and he caught her with a disapproving glare.

“Lady Aria.” A tight lipped smile followed by a bow that was near nonexistent. It should have rattled her, being treated in such a manner in her workplace, but she would never spare him the chance to become glib.

“Lord Harriman,” her curtsy was just as quick. “I wasn’t aware that the King would be meeting with you, especially today. Are you sure you’re here on the correct day? The ledgers state no appointments with those _outside_ of the Court.”

“To _think_ -” he began with a different smile, tighter if that were possible- “that I would have a public meeting with the king. Oh no no, I am on the correct day. Surely, whatever _trivial_ tasks you all will pester him will be dealt with later.”

Aria feigned a sigh. “A pity. It appears that even his morning will be _filled_ with _trivial_ tasks.”

It struck a nerve, just as intended. Harriman’s thin lips forcefully stayed curved, a light, aggravated laugh left his mouth as soon as he began to speak. “Say, my dear, is your father out of town? I was hoping to catch him during the day, but alas, life. Tell me, how is my friend?”

“Ah, is this about the invitation to the Society? Shame, I’m sure it’s coming soon. Must be a mistake with the mail carriers.”

“Ha! That lazy excuse to whore around, laughable. If I wanted to increase the spawn of immature and impolite brats, I would have-”

“Lord Harriman, if you’re quite done harassing my staff with _your_ immature and impolite comments, I will meet you in the war room.”

Logan’s voice tore through the tension. He moved effortlessly down the side stairs, stopping right next to Aria. She was ever grateful that he had arrived, coming to defend her. No matter how much he’d changed, how much had happened between them, he was always willing to help her. Her tight breathing returned to normal, a manageable smile on her features as Harriman bows. He took a quick look back at the guards, a raised hand, and they returned to their post by the door. 

“I hate him,” Aria spat out when Harriman was out of earshot. She followed Logan to the throne room. Empty, devoid of other life. Perfect for a quiet chat before they both parted ways.

“Many, _many_ others agree. I am one of them.” His mood had improved. In a way, Logan felt lighter, happier. There was something about him today that made Aria smile, a genuine one this time. “Now, what’s stopping me from letting your father kill him?”

“Is that a serious question? The answer's money.”

“Ah, that. The bane and unfortunate necessity of keeping a country running.” His smile was still there, albeit faint. A quick squeeze on her shoulder. “As for Harriman, I will keep him out of your presence for the remainder of the day. The meeting is postponed until evening. Take that time to… prepare.” 

A faint bow as Logan turned to leave, only to stop short and turn back to look at her. “I’m rather excited to hear your proposal.” And that was that, he left her alone in the throne room. 

She beamed. To hear his enthusiasm come through was something else entirely, it was a feeling that one could get drunk off of. Logan’s approval was hard to come by, and only few were ever given the pleasure of seeing it. Now she had to make him proud. Maybe then they could go back to the friendship of long ago.

•••

Slamming books and discarding them to the side, Aria found it hard to concentrate at all. The rebels and their games played through her mind whenever she tried to focus. Every sentence she read made her think of them, and she wasn’t sure why they were such a big part of her mind now. Her proposal refinement needed to be perfect, and it was hard to do much of anything with her thoughts racing.

She groaned, falling into the chaise and allowing herself to slide down it. The thought of not knowing what was going to happen to her drove Aria mad. Everything about her being was on the line. Her life. Her stability. Her status even. If one wrong move was made, that was it. She’d be taken advantage of and that would be her demise. She’d lose everything dear to her, and even if it wasn’t dear, it was the stable aspects of her life that would crumble.

As much as she wanted to believe Erik that everything would be okay, and that he would help her, she just… couldn’t. There was still a chance they’d go behind his back, make choices that would hurt her in the end even if he would never have allowed it. By the time he’d act, it’d be too late. What Aria needed to do was protect herself.

More time was wasted. All books were tossed aside when her eyes began to glaze over, the sentences too blurred to read. Aria sat there, leaning into herself as a pile began to form around her. How unfortunate that this is what her mind clung to. 

She perked up. Footsteps nearby, someone was now in the room.

Aria turned her body, and there he was, one of Logan’s guards idly standing by one of her piles. It wasn’t uncommon for them to do patrols around the area, leaving shortly after. What was uncommon was one of them standing about and watching her. It was cause for concern. Was this a rebel? Assassin? 

“Hello?” She spoke first. Was it foolish? Quite possibly, but Aria wasn’t aware of what to do in these situations. In fact, this month alone, she had faced more of the outside world than originally thought. Aria thought she was worldly, but books alone would not be enough it seemed.

“Are you prepared?”

Now this wasn’t what she was expecting. Well, it probably wasn’t an assassin, Aria assumed they wouldn’t make their presence known if they were. “Excuse me? Prepared? Prepared for what?”

“Are you prepared?”

“And _again_ , I ask, for what?”

No response. Instead, he opted to stare at her through the slits in his helmet. An impossible shade of blue, it was frightening and striking all at the same time. Was he what the rebels were referring to when they spoke of a test? If this was him... 

Aria approached closer to where he stood, plucking a book off the table and skimming through its pages. A closer look to his appearance. Nothing special, just another royal guard. But perhaps, it was a disguise. The uniform could have been stolen.

“Old Brigade by any chance?”

She could feel him rolling his eyes. Aria sighed, she wasn’t doing so well for a secret spy. How would the Rebellion even use her? Another sigh, more out of frustration than any other emotion. It was time to take this seriously. Her life, _life_ , was on the line.

“All right, fine. I’m prepared.”

A slip of paper slid into her hands, and then he left the room. She reached forward to grab him, but he was too far away. A chase? No, yelling would cause a scene and she’d been through plenty this month alone. Instead, her eyes drifted to the piece of paper in her fingers. She flipped it around. No address, nothing besides two simple sentences:

_‘The treaty between Samarkand and Albion will not come to pass. In order to protect your country, you must fail now'_

Her heart sank… How did they figure out what she had planned? Everything she worked for would be sacrificed in order to seal an alliance between the Rebellion and herself. Was it even worth it to do this? Was the Rebellion even going to do any good, or would it just be another repeat. Would they betray Erik in the end?

Aria fell into her seat. Every hurt, especially her head. Wrapping her thoughts around what was happening turned out to be difficult. The people of Albion deserved better than corrupt officials, a king who they feared, and a country with tense emotions.

What was she to do? The meeting was starting soon, a decision would have to be made. Everything she worked for… What was she to do?

•••

Not even ten minutes later, she was called into the war room. Every part of her being screamed for her to make a decision, stick with it and become confident. Just like Reaver had taught her. Push away doubts, and then commit. Something had to be done.

The other advisors milled inside, opting to sit on lounge chairs and chat amongst themselves. Tall glasses of champagne hung from their fingers, loose and light, just like their attitudes when it wasn’t time to work. They were relaxed beings, never having to worry about a single word they said. Thin stacks of paper nearby all of them, proposals to share with the king. It appeared that Aria was the only one who had to ever fight tooth and nail for her ideas. And now, it might be thrown away entirely.

Instead, she took her place at one of the window seats, a distance away from the others. It perfectly encompassed their relationship. There yet never near. The other advisors paid her little mind, and those that did looked at her with distaste. Just like the Millfield girls at galas, upturned noses and sneers. It was different to be on the receiving end of the game. 

Minutes later, Logan strode in, confident beyond a doubt. His clothing was its signature color: purple with accents of gold, red, and black. Although, upon closer inspection, it was different from the outfit earlier. He rarely changed clothing for these meetings, and the thought of Harriman spilling a drink on Logan made her sputter out with laughter. A few side glances were earned, and Aria turned away still snickering at the thought.

“Good evening.” Logan had addressed them and up they went, bowing to honor his presence. He took his place at the edge of the war table, a distance away from everyone. A table between him and everyone all except Aria. She could see him clearly, standing there in a disquieted state. Something really must have happened with his earlier meeting.

“As always, I must remind you all that today’s meeting will be conducted with the utmost privacy and _respect_. Stated last week, discussion of bolstering Albion’s trade agreements will be conducted today.”

It was advisor Jerrica who took the first stand, announcing the list of speakers for today’s presentations. She was quick to move, and quiet as she did so. Aria wondered how such a tall woman with stiff joints worked without cracking. There was nothing special about her. Rare to see accessories on her person, and rarer to see an expression that wasn’t one of disgust. She continued to read words, letting her monotone voice pushed Aria back into her thoughts. 

She rarely had anything to present to the group, and this year when she did… 

The meeting droned on, each advisor jumping at the chance to present their ideas leaving Aria dead last. Words about Albion, with merchants and noblemen filled the air. Again and again, a broken melody playing on repeat. 

She should have gone first. Gotten it over with, see what her subconscious decided for her instead of hoping logic and reason would prevail.

“What do you have for us?

It was Titleton who croaked the words out with a gravelly voice that made anyone’s skin crawl. His once perfect nose now was crooked, something he had acquired months ago during… Well, now that Aria really thought about it, it happened during that one meeting that set Erik off the edge. She shivered, the pieces were being put together.

“I have…” Aria began, only to cut herself short. “I-I have nothing.”

And just like that, her subconscious had made a decision. Was it the right one? Aria wouldn’t be sure until much, much later. Right now, here she was, standing with stacks upon stacks of paper between her hands. Pages with empty words, her heart felt just as meaningless as what was written on them. 

“Nothing? So you brought, what, pages from a book?” One advisor chidded out.

“Ha, of course. Sit down, dear, let the grown ups do the work.”

“Your first proposal, and this is what you do with the opportunity?”

“How shameful.”

“Too young to advise. Let us go to more knowledgeable sources, a child who pretends to know history. Woe is me.”

Their words continued on until they were a dull droning in her ears. Aria expected rebuttal no matter what decision she decided to make. No it was Logan she was the most worried about. Out the corner of her eye, she looked, and was disheartened by what she saw.

He stood there, motionless, expressionless, a wall of unbreakable stone. For a second, it looked like he had noticed her stare. Still, he made no eye contact. All that was there was the smallest shake of his head. Aria had disappointed him. It was clear.

That was her breaking point, the smallest shake of his head had made her crumble. Aria stood there, a small sniffle at first. An apology, but the words still continued on. Then there were tears, another apology, but the others made no motion to stop.

“Enough!” Logan sighed, grabbing the bridge of his nose. “Meeting adjourned. We will come to a conclusion next week. You are all dismissed.”

And just like that, the words stopped. Quickly, they jumped out of their seats, working their way towards the entrance smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened. Aria stood alone in that room. No matter how many lingered, she was making a choice that involved no one else.

It was time to go, to face the first consequence of her decision. When she turned to the door, Logan was already there, leaning against the frame and watching her with those grey eyes of his. As far as Aria could tell, he wasn’t upset. Still, she wouldn’t let her guard down. Logan was serious, and he knew how to hide his emotions far better than anyone else. He let his anger fester for months before letting it all out in a cold, calculating way. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to see that side of him anytime soon.

“Might I ask the reason for your-” his head rocked side to side, looking for a word- “ _failed_ preparation?” Closing the door to the room, Logan sauntered over to one of the lounge seats, his nose wrinkling at the smell of perfume and cologne that still clung to furniture. 

“I… didn’t have the time.”

He let out a small chuckle, staring with such an intensity that Aria swore he could see all of her secrets. “Why lie? The others aren’t here. So, as your family, I’d like to know the truth. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Yes… Yes you do.” She sighed. Logan didn’t know all of her tells, Aria could still get away with this. Another sigh, do just what her mother and father taught her. The best lies must always be shrouded with truth. “I couldn’t do it. The more I thought about it… Well, I’m not the right person for this work. This line of work, I’ve blundered everything up!”

“What are you talking about?!” Looking baffled, he shot up out of his chair. It was such a speed that it made Aria take a step back. His face twisted into a grimace as he calmed himself, taking his place back into the seat. “Aria. No one else could have thought of this treaty, let alone make it work. Only you. Why do you still doubt yourself?” Another sigh, and the barest of whispers, “I thought this position would help you…” 

“I think, I think about my mother. About Samarkand, how it feels so far away, and that I’m no longer a part of it all. And… And what can I do except doubt myself? I thought it would be a good option, this merger! No, it’s a poor one I cannot bring myself to finish. I’m just reminded that it’s a part of me that’s lost.”

The words left her mouth. She wasn’t expecting that much of the truth to leave her, or that level of emotion, but it did. They would be used now, it seemed, to ensure her safety and passage through the slippery slopes of omission and lies. A fragile balance needed to be had. 

She wanted him to believe her, she wanted to beg that he would believe her. And he did. A solemn nod before turning towards the door with her at his heels.

“I apologize for pressuring you into presenting. This topic, I should have realized that it was a sore one for you.”

“Th-thank you.” Best not to let him think she’d given up. “I apologize, I shall try again in the future. Perhaps after the dreaded winter?”

“... We do not have as much time as you might think.” Another set of words spoken barely above a whisper. Aria wanted to know more, but Logan continued on. “Very well, when spring returns, I expect a finished report.”

The corners of her mouth naturally flick up into a smile. He still wanted her help, even after that shameful display of inaction. Logan proved time and time again that he would have her back… Unfortunately, it seemed that she wouldn’t be able to hold that same standard.

His first sentence played back into her mind. _We do not have as much time as you might think_ … What did that mean? Was he referring to the Rebellion, and to being overthrown? Or was it the darkness he spoke about so long ago? She was afraid to push, not when they were getting somewhere in their talks. This was the longest conversation they’d had in such a long time. Why would Aria try to ruin it with questions?

For a small bit, while leaving the room and walking down the hall, they stayed in silence. It was a moment she cherished, almost as if their youth returned to them, if only for a second. The main door, still propped open by two guards, caught her attention. It was getting darker, and if she were lucky, the carriages would still be in service. 

“I shall take my leave. Thank you, Logan. Goodnight.”

“Wait! Cousin…”

His voice, while quiet, caught her attention. Aria turned back, an inquisitive look on her features as he mulled around for words. Eventually, he found them, gesturing for her to go back up the stairs.

“It’s getting rather late.”

“That it is,” a small laugh left her. How odd for him to suddenly state the obvious. “If I leave now, I’ll be able to avoid all sorts of trouble.”

“... Your old room is still here. Leave tomorrow afternoon. Besides, there are assignments that I need you to review in the morning.”

“Right. Better not waste time traveling to and fro. It will be done.”

Logan let out a rather unimpressed groan. “Or,” he began with a frown, knowing his own words came out wrong, “it’s safer for you to travel during the day. I must have been out of my mind the other night.”

“The other night? Logan, it was alright. I made it home, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“And thank the Light you got back! Did you happen to stop at the inn before you left?”

A sheepish smile. If Reaver had figured it out quickly, why did she expect it would take Logan so long? “Well… yes. I did.”

“You’ll be the death of me.” A disapproving look, one resembling a mother scolding her children. Aria nearly cackled, still she kept her head low and lips pressed together. Now wasn’t the time to laugh. “Don’t go with the guards. Understand?”

“I didn’t stay late! It was all fine,” she protested back. The night was her worst by far, but Logan didn’t need to know what happened then, and he didn’t need to know anything about what happened after. Whatever consequences would arise from working with the rebels, she prayed they would come later.

“ _Guards_. Next time. I’m _serious_. A riot broke out that night, resulting in a few deaths, numerous injuries.. You understand, don’t you?”

Her face blanched. They found Corliss, or someone did. Did they figure out what happened? Who else had died that night? The thoughts made her sick.

“This Rebellion is safe for no one. Not the people, not us. Not even the ones playing its game. Please, be more cautious.”

“Y-yes… I will… Of course. Goodnight.”

He smiled. A small thing that barely made his cheeks rise, yet it was enough for Aria. Nothing else was said as they both parted for the night. Logan to the war room, and Aria towards her old room.

•••

Entering the bedroom brought back memories of her childhood as it clicked open. They were mostly good memories: Running around in the castle's halls, chased by Sparrow. Erik was always in tow, looking for the first sign of trouble he could get the both of them in. And Logan would always join in his own subtle way.

How different everything had been back then. A pure innocence of the world, now ripped away by how everything became. Her memories felt warped and twisted, did she even remember the events well enough? Perhaps they too were warbled ideas that she romanticized. Her youth wasn’t as perfect as she would have liked.

A sigh left Aria’s lips. All of these paintings tacked up onto the walls. Even more memories. Commissioned pieces that brought the humble backgrounds of the late king and queen together. Sparrow's Old Town and Robin's Oakfield. All kept alive in this one little room. It was so easy to forget the presence they had once upon a time. 

Another sigh. Now, it was time to place memories to the side. Aria would be finding her place now as a piece of the Rebellion. How different everything turned out to be, much different than she would have liked.

•••

A set of knocks startled Aria awake from her light slumber. At first, she ignored it. All night the faint tapping of raindrops had lulled her to sleep, Aria hardly expected a thunderstorm to wake her up now.

The knocks persisted. No, this wasn’t a storm. Aria peered over thick sheets, staring at the crack underneath the door. A shadow, someone standing there. Her heart jumped into her throat as another series of light knocks brought her to her feet.

She cracked open the door, peeking at the figure before her. An off-duty guard, loose purple shirt tucked into signature black pants. He was an older man with peppered hair, and… there it was, that impossible shade of blue. The guard from the library.

"What do _you_ want?"

“Cut the attitude,” he responded in the same tone as her. Sharp, harsh, and barely above a whisper. “I’m here to let you know your results.”

“Oh! Wonderful, well, get on with it. After all, I’m surprised you speak more than a couple of words.”

Sounds from the end of the hall, an approaching patrol, almost ready to turn the corner. The guard looked at Aria with a strict intensity, pushing open the door more. She held firm, pushing it back closed. His foot lodged in the door and she stared at him once again. Could she have one pleasant night?

“What are you doing?”

“Instead of _wasting_ my time, let me inside.”

“Absolutely not! You’re very pushy!” 

“You don’t seem to care about keeping a low profile.” 

“Ugh. Right. _Silly_ me. What will people think of-”

The patrol was closer now, and they were running out of time. With a fluid push, he slipped through the opening, pushing past her to get inside. She was furious, should she channel her father now, or later? 

‘ _You would have done it by now if you were more like him_ ,’ Aria thought, knowing exactly who she was more like. Her mother. Too curious for the world, always wanting to see the bigger picture and all the mistakes that came with it. A woman that had gone and died. 

“They’ll be here soon,” he whispered, climbing into a wardrobe as soon as the footsteps were heard. “Keep a low profile.”

Exasperated and fatigued, Aria could only sigh. Of course this is how her night would end, with a guard hiding in her closet. She should have known that the weeks would only become odder.

The doors of the wardrobe clicked softly just as a knock rung throughout the room. Lucky timing. Too lucky. Aria clenched her fists. Perhaps this was another test of loyalty, she could do this. At least they were asking less of her this time.

The two at the door were amicable enough, sheepish even as she did her best to look more ruffled and sleep-deprived. Full uniform, helmet and all, at least they didn’t feel out of place.

“We heard talking, ma’am. Came here to check the situation. Is everything alright?”

“Talking?” She paused, brows furrowing. “Oh yes!” A sweet laugh as she shook her head. “That was me, I apologize, I wasn't aware I was being that loud. Forgive me, I was merely preparing a speech, and practicing out loud helps me a great deal.”

“Ah. Understood. We shall leave you to your, uh, speech preparations.”

With a bow, both guards turned to leave. She watched them reach the end of the hall before closing the door shut. Already, Aria had the intention of giving this off-duty guard a piece of her mind, surprised to find that he was already out standing by the window.

“I need answers! Now! Or I’m calling those guards back.” Was it a threat? Aria wasn’t sure. Crass words left her mouth the more her anger came into play.

He turned from his place at the window, his lips in a crooked sneer. “Do that, and you’ll lose all chance of getting into the Resistance’s good graces.”

“You’re trying to frighten me. It won’t work.”

“No. I wouldn’t _waste_ my time trying so. What you need to know that you _are_ a liability, you _are_ nothing. So tread your step, little noble. Listen and listen well-”

“ _Shut_ up!”

For a second, the guard stared at her in shock. Was he expecting that outburst? Aria definitely wasn’t, and yet she found herself stepping closer, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. Willpower bubbled underneath her skin. Even if it wasn’t visible, she could feel it grow stronger as her emotions grew. She should… She should…

“ _You_ are to listen first! I’ve been risking my hide the moment I met all of you. I want answers.” She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting. “You’ll have plenty of time to whine when I get what I need. Now… Now,” Aria settled down now, no longer feeling the Will flow through her body. 

His own demeanor changed, if only slightly, gesturing for her to ask the first question. 

“Right… Let’s start small. You look so familiar. What’s your name?”

“Gerald.”

A gasp left her mouth, prompting Aria to take a seat at the edge of her bed. “Oh no… By Avo… You’re..”

She threw her face into her hands, feeling sick at the thoughts that crossed her mind. Why didn’t she see it earlier? Who else had those eyes? Gerald was the most loyal member to Albion’s army, the first to take the training in order to become an elite guard. The first one to rise up from the ranks. Everything, everything Gerald did was in service to the Crown. They’d had plenty of ceremonies and celebrations honoring his work. Yet, here he was, a part of the Rebellion.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe you! The Crown trusts you! _He_ trusts you!!”

“Aria! Listen to yourself,” Gerald huffed out, grabbing her shoulders. She turned stiff at his touch, driving his hand away with hers. “Cry all you want, little noble, but know you’ve made the same decision I have. You are now a part of the Resistance, and you cannot turn back. It’s permanent. No one pities you. Remember that next time you have a tantrum.”

His words were cruel, just like the other advisors. The other rebels were probably the same as him, untrusting of her and awfully frank. What a predicament she found herself in. Was there any place that would be hers? 

“Does this mean I passed? How are you so sure? Were there others in the meeting who knew about what you wrote me?”

Gerald’s mouth formed a thin line, for a second he mulled over something in his mind. Eventually, he shook his head as if to dismiss the thought. “None of them are worth the trouble of recruiting, they’d be even more useless than yourself. If you couldn’t guess, they’re vocal people, it was easy to overhear what happened.” A long pause, letting the silence take over the room. “Know this: If you make any move to expose us, there are people in this castle who will tell me.”

“And what? You’ll kill me?!”

“Maybe _I_ won’t, but who’s to say where the wind will blow. You might make a lovely ransom. So keep up, little noble, and behave. Pray that you’ll never have to find out what the final decision will be.”

She sniffed, bunching her hands up into balls. This was a man who would kill her if he had the chance… Apparently Albion had it out for her, it was only a matter of time until she found more enemies in life. About time, as her father would say. Aria should have returned to Samarkand as soon as she was old enough. Get away from everything and live someplace where she wasn’t hated. It would have been a grand life, a blissful one. None of this.

“How do you fit into all of this, Gerald?”

He huffed, looking as if she had asked the silliest question in the whole of Albion. The same type of judgmental look the other advisors gave her. How funny, with all of these reactions and hurtful comments, he should have just joined politics instead of prancing around as a guard.

Gerald moved towards the door, turning the handle and about to leave. He turned slightly, glancing at Aria, and there it was, a smile. Crooked and threatening all at once.

“You will have your first mission soon enough.” The handle turned. “But remember this, little noble, I am the eyes and ears of the castle. Nothing is safe for you.”

The door opened and closed, leaving Aria alone in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to Aria! She's been going through a lot of confusion and doubt these past couple of chapters, and will no doubt have more to sift through.
> 
> I've had this chapter sitting around for a while, but it's the editing that takes a long time. Probably wouldn't hurt to do another round, but I really wanted to post (I'll let everyone know if I've edited things in the notes section). 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for waiting and thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. As always, comments and kudos are super-duper appreciated c: Take care, until next time!


	8. Callow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confusion is in the air, Aria tries to get answers from the various people in her life, only to leave with more doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit Language

“Your hair has changed.”

It was Logan who had said the words as he entered the study with a handful of letters, ready to set them on a table nearby. He had stopped short in his tracks, only sparing a quick look before Aria rolled her eyes. This delay was most amusing to her. She looked at him, expecting another question.

“When did this happen?”

She picked up a stray curl, admiring the complexity of what had happened. No longer was it a bright red, garish, but her natural brown. The color had been easy to come by, and Albion hairdresser’s were second to none in their craft. Aria smiled, it had been too long since she last had this hair.

“Only yesterday,” she said, looking at Logan with a smile. “I felt a need to go to my… roots, so to speak. Perhaps it’ll help me.” 

Her comment won over a burst of laughter, and Logan only shook his head. “I see… I must admit, you do look a lot like your mother.”

“Very much so.” 

That factor almost made her not change the style. Keep the red, and damn be the consequences. Looking like _that_ woman was something she wanted to avoid. Still, the practicality of the decision won. She needed to blend in with the world now, her old fiery hair would stick out like a sore thumb. Besides, it was only fitting that she changed something about herself when her allegiances also drifted to the other side. 

The thought of her mother returned to her mind, and she needed to change the topic. Now. “Are those letters from my father?” Aria found herself asking, her head tilted up.

Logan nodded, peeling one open. Another solemn nod, and he reached over to hand her a single envelope. Apparently she was also on Reaver’s mind. The red seal unbroken and undecorated, what were the chances that _he_ took the time to write this and not a servant?

“Just the one,” Logan returned to his own papers. “My guess is that yours may be more pleasant than mine.”

“Oh? What makes you think so?”

“Is yours about Industrial?”

A small _‘oh’_ left her lips. Logan’s tone carried such nonchalance, Aria had no choice but to look around sheepishly. Her letters would never be about Bowerstone and its problems, only about prude details about nobility and their fun games. That decree alone would make messages for her more pleasant. 

“I’ve had to pick up his slack after his sudden… Vacation. It appears we have much to discuss.” 

“... Would you like some help?” she asked. Perhaps he would say nothing, or perhaps he’d ask the world. Aria wasn’t sure what she’d do with the information, but now, all she wanted was to help out family.

“No. You’ve enough to do.”

Aria bit back the words left on her tongue. Of course he would decline, Logan always seemed to decline. She wanted to ask so much of him, especially when there was no audience present. The rebels were all too willing to show her their side of the war, but none of it made sense. None of these decisions she was privy to should have turned into… whatever Industrial turned into. Whatever Albion was turning into. They were for the betterment of the country. The library, the bans, the cut backs on budgets. But it seemed there was always more. Choices that she never knew about, choices that she wasn’t a part of. Why did she only start thinking about it _now_?

A deep sigh left her, the letter crumpling between her fingers. There wasn’t any need to open and read. It was always the same when Reaver returned. He requested her presence, her time, her loyalty. There was always something Aria had to give in return for nothing. 

She watched Logan for a short moment. His eyes darted from one line to the other as he discarded letter after letter. Aria couldn’t wait for his response, and shook away any question he may have had, opting to stand up and leave the room.

“I shall take my leave for now. I’ll be back in the evening.” A pause, it felt like an excuse for her to leave. The silence of it all was too overbearing. There were too many questions running in her mind, and dismissal was something she couldn’t bear. “Take care, Logan.”

•••

Quiet and boring. The manor lacked the overarching presence of Reaver. Any clues to where he could be were lost on Aria. She peered into all open rooms, straining her ears to hear anything. Alas, nothing, not even the servants were around.

“For someone so adamant on my presence, he sure likes to make himself scarce.”

A creak caught her attention, something coming from the library. Reaver had to be nearby. His game of hide and seek was starting to irritate her, he was still nowhere to be found. Not even in the library. She stepped backwards, noting something she hadn’t before: The study door was open.

Tall bookshelves lined the walls, still just as magical as the first time she had snuck into the room. Reaver kept it locked at all times. Rarely did he enter the space, and rarer were the times Aria did. And yet, for some odd reason, it was unlocked for the whole world to see, calling out her name in the back of her head. Her father wasn’t there, but something else definitely was.

Darkness, that was the feeling in the air when she stepped inside. A sensation that crawled on her skin. A being that was there and yet entirely far away, all coming from the other side of the room. She saw it, laying on his desk, and Aria was drawn to it. 

She stepped closer, noticing all the intricate details, and finally her mind accepted what it was. A seal, dark in appearance, holding a familiar symbol. Something about it, she desired to hold… 

Aria jumped, shaking herself out of the trance. These dark secrets… There was no point in delving into them. They were better left untouched, out of sight and out of mind. She always had an inkling that Reaver was interested in the dark arts, but for herself to be pulled… It was definitely dangerous. There was always a price to pay, and she was afraid of what they’d ask _her_ to pay. 

Without a second to doubt her choice or be pulled back into the darkness, she left. The door slammed behind her, and as if on cue, the sounds of the manor returned. Aria could hear it all now. The steps, faint talking in the distance, creaking from the furniture. It had all returned.

“Father?” Aria called out, distancing herself from the study. If the manor was back to normal, then her original task did too.

She heard it, a response from nearby, there was no need to strain herself to hear. He was there, outside by the sounds of it. Another turn, and she entered into a dayroom, spotting Reaver standing on the balcony with his back turned.

“There you are,” Reaver turned, a smile crept onto his face. Youthful and upbeat, Aria noticed. Whoever he was before his trip had changed, Reaver looked a different man. “Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” He chidded out, glass of whiskey in his hand. Still full, hardly touched by the looks of it.

“That’s not fair. I came here as soon as I read your letter.”

His pause was playful, patronizing as Reaver slid into the room with grace. Aria’s body moved, following after the tall man like a lost puppy as he left altogether. She was still awaiting his response, noting that only the bare bones of his smile remained. 

Reaver stopped in the middle of the hall, taking a sip from his glass. “Of course, excuses are popular nowadays,” he turned to her, chuckling as she pulled back to the wall before bumping into him. “You’re still slow. Dear daughter, is there anything else that could be lacking?”

Cryptic, as always, and holding a double-meaning that she understood all too well. Why wasn’t she adept in the three disciplines? Aria had all the makings to become a true Hero if she just _tried_ the others, and yet, she preferred to keep to her Will. And even then, what was the point of having an ability that she hardly used?

“I know with startling accuracy that this isn’t the conversation either of us were originally expecting,” Aria began after a pause, lifting up her head in time to catch his expectant smile. “You really wanted me here to talk about the party.”

His eyebrows raised slightly. Aria bit back down the rest of her words. Was she wrong? Did he really call her over to talk about their heroic abilities? Reaver was an impossible man to get a read on. While he brandished a personality on the front, knowing him on a personal level revealed even more confusion. For the man who partially raised her, why was it so difficult to _know_ him?

“You do plan on joining us tomorrow, won’t you my dear?”

Her brows furrowed at his words. Was there a hidden meaning behind them? Perhaps it was straightforward, but Aria never believed in the straightforward when it was coming from her father. The chances of guessing Reaver’s real intentions were low.

“I must admit, I’m eagerly awaiting your response,” he laughed, taking another sip.

‘ _This is just another game for him_ ,' she thought as her arms folded together. “I’m not in the mood,” Aria finally responded. “Besides, there’s hardly any fun happening in a secret society.”

“ _Oh_ , there’s plenty of fun happening.”

She grimaced. “When you put it in that tone, there’s definitely a chance I will never attend one. No thank you, I’ll spend my weekend far away while you have your little debauched soiree.”

Unimpressed, Reaver shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”

He took another sip, setting down the glass on a nearby table, covered in a fine layer of dust. A soft chuckle left him and then as if he had forgotten something, a stack of letters was pulled from his coat pocket. “Oh darling, before you leave, I have a little request. Shouldn’t take up much of your time.”

She took the stack, flipping through them and spotted no name. “Let me guess, for Logan?”

“I’m sure he’ll be quite thrilled to see them.” 

“I’m sure he will.” Aria sighed. This was more work for all of them… Or everyone except her. The more she thought about it, the more Aria realized she wasn’t privy to anything that went behind the scenes. Too young, too inexperienced… All Aria was was a runner between them. A scapegoat to make all sides pleased. She knew little, so it was easy to persuade the masses when the time came.

•••

The castle was lively upon her return, much different than the manor. Plenty of guests walked the lower halls, waiting for their meeting with the king. Even the staff was out, moving through the crowds, working with quick efficiency to clean and toil.

There were so many faces, Aria nearly missed one important one. Dark hair, freckled cheeks, and a build that could only belong to one particular rogue in the whole of Albion. Roy Morris.

He stood there, wiping down a vase, gently setting it back in place and picking up another one. Nothing amiss in the room, he fell into the role so naturally that everyone else had breezed by him without much thought. All except Aria. Her eyes pressed into his back until he turned around to look.

Such a lovely smile painted on his features, all too pretty and charming. The usual smile she found herself loathing. Aria huffed, turning on her heel and made her way up the stairs. This man was going to drive her up the wall. Why was he here of all places?! Was there nowhere safe for her anymore? Couldn’t they have found a different person to keep watch? The rebels were already in the castle, and they just _had_ to add Roy to the mix.

“Focus, Aria, focus,” she furiously whispered to herself, moving aptly to the left and heading straight towards the war room. Empty, all save for Logan who reviewed court material from his seat. His head hardly moved when she burst into the room, only acknowledging her presence with the wave of his hand. 

“I’m back,” she sang, stepping over to his desk, waiting for his response.

Logan smiled, faint and light, nothing like the one he wore all those days ago. Was it her presence that upset him? Aria wasn’t entirely sure. Still, he spoke to her, even more so after the meeting so surely it couldn’t have been her doing. 

“What’s the matter?”

At first, Logan’s features held a look of uncertainty. He looked up at her, an internal battle playing out. And finally, a decision. His expression shifted to one of nonchalance. “It is nothing you need to trouble yourself with.”

Unsatisfied with his tone, Aria sat herself down. The papers were thrown to the side of the desk, her declaration of attention. “Whatever it is, Logan, I _will_ listen.” 

Through his surprise, Logan smiled. Genuine and something wonderful, and it was the first sliver of the person Aria knew all those years ago. This was the cousin she had grown up with, not the king with the world on his shoulders. 

“Thank you,” the expression faded, and Aria was left with the lingering moment in the air. “I promise you, Aria, that this is something I can manage. Besides, it seems you have brought me something.”

“Oh, yes!” Aria motioned to the letters. He was changing the subject, it didn’t take the master to realize it, but she couldn’t force him to speak on the matter either. If he didn’t trust her, he unfortunately didn’t trust her. “My father seems to think I’m some messenger bird.”

“It’s far more reliable to use you,” a laugh in his voice as the joke was said, Logan was already breaking open the seal of each envelope. He paused, setting down the information. “For later.”

“For later,” she repeated his words in a whisper. Something dawning on her as his prior sentence replayed in her mind. “I have a question.”

“And what would that be?” Regardless of what he had said, Logan returned to a different stack of documents to his side. Whatever suggestion of break he had said, was disregarded seconds later. For Logan, work trumped everything, as expected of a King. Aria wondered if he had to choose again, would becoming monarch be his first choice?

“The other night, it’s been on my mind,” she began, carefully thinking of her next sentence. Tact would be required. “Specifically, I’ve been thinking of a certain set of words you uttered.” Aria paused. “ _‘We don’t have as much time as you might think.’_ What does that mean? What did you mean by that?”

Logan stopped, his movements frozen, the words processing in his mind. “Has this been on your mind?”

“Often enough for me to warrant asking.” Her voice sounded so frail. In truth, Aria was worried of how he would respond. This was asking for him to share his worries, something she had previously laughed at. It was dangerous territory, and could distance their relationship even more. And still, Aria needed to know.

They sat in silence, ambient noise overtaking the room before Logan let out one drawn-out sigh. Aria had expected something from him, an excuse, a dismissal, not a look of confusion that made her even more confused. It appeared even he was unwilling to unlock these emotions.

“What does it mean, Logan?” Aria asked again. Her voice, while a whisper, was louder than anything else in the room. She was the center of attention, demanding that the universe listen to her.

“Exactly that. We do not have enough time. I have made decisions, difficult ones, and ones that come with consequences that will allow Albion to have a fighting chance. This country’s only way to survive-” He stopped. Written all over his face, it was clear that Logan had said too much.

She sat still, her hands beginning to shake. “This is about the Darkness, isn’t it?” 

“I’ve told you, don’t trouble your-”

In one swift motion, Aria stood, the papers on his desk flying upwards. “I’m sorry!!” 

Logan leaned back, staring at her, startled by the outburst. “Aria-”

Her voice tore through it all, the guilt had finally bubbled over. “I’m sorry I’ve lost your trust, and treated you a fool!! I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the person you could turn to when you were hurting!! Honestly,” a sob left her, and then another. “Logan, to know that you have something planned, something you can’t even trust to tell me. I know that you’ve excluded me from certain meetings, all I get are vague words here and there. Why can’t-”

There was a knock on the door, and Aria clamped up as Hobson entered the room. His brows furrowed at the scene before him. And as fast as Aria had stood, she settled back down into her seat, biting at her lip to stop her sobs.

“Your Highness, the reports have arrived.” Hobson announced, looking around at the disarray in the room. “May we?”

“Aria,” Logan whispered. He gestured for Hobson to take a seat, eyes still on her. She couldn’t look him in the eye, too much was said. “I suppose we will have to continue this discussion another day.”

“Yes.” Her tone bitter, spitting venom in his direction. “I suppose we shall.”

Aria stood. Her bow to Logan was quick, near nonexistent. She left the room seconds later, unable to control her sobbing. The click of the door shutting behind her, Aria turned down the hall towards the main section of the castle.

A shaky breath left her, leaving her leaning against the banister of the top floor. “What a horrible way to leave things on…” she murmured to herself, glancing downstairs to see what was happening. Guests still mingled around, but far fewer than earlier in the day. The guards still loomed about. Was Gerald amongst them today? He probably knew her schedule like the back of his hand.

‘ _Who else here could be a rebel?_ ’ she thought, attention turning to a group of laughing servants. Passing comments and silly gestures as they left the room. And then a thought hit her. Roy was here. Somewhere in the castle, probably being a nuisance. She had to find him.

At first, Aria looked down the halls, staring at each of the staff until she neared. In an awkward attempt to save face, she smiled and passed them without a second look. Light laughter was the result, and they said nothing else. 

She moved onto the rooms, looking inside, hoping to spot some sign of him. Still, nothing. There were still the kitchens to check. Otherwise, Aria would be furious with herself. Of course it’d be her who went on a wild goose chase to find a strange man. 

By the will of Avo, Roy was there. The few staff members paid him no mind, working away at cleaning or prepping. He himself worked quietly, cutting vegetables with proficiency and skill. Aria was surprised he knew how to do anything besides tease, but then again, Roy was probably good at a lot of things. That was a concern in and of itself.

“Roy Morris!” she hissed out, storming over to his table, causing it to shake. Without missing a beat, Roy lifted the knife away from his fingers, narrowly avoiding slicing them to bits. 

He returned to his work, one brow raised as he flicked his attention to her and then back to the vegetables. “Ain’t nobody here going by that name.”

“Oh drop the fake accent.” Her eyes rolled as he put up an act of disbelief and confusion. “We all know you can’t cover up that guttural Bloodstone accent.”

“ _Guttural_?!” It struck a nerve, just as intended, and Aria found herself smiling at his outburst. “There’s nothing guttural about my accent!”

She couldn’t help but groan. “Ugh, yes, just listen to yourself! I know you _love_ to hear your own voice, that’s the only reason you-”

“Bullshit. Look who’s talking. How about you start listening to yourself Miss I’m-So-Posh-And-I’m-From-Bowerstone! Look at all my fancy big words, and this large vocabulary!”

Aria made a face. “You must have selective hearing, my accent isn’t from Bowerstone, you uncultured man! It’s Samarkandian!”

“Oh, oh, _right_. My _apologies_.”

The sarcasm in his voice made her blood boil. Aria stopped herself short, biting back her own retort. It was she who sought him out with the expectation that the conversation would be different. With Roy, she should have just expected it to go downhill. They were both too foolhardy around one another.

With a breath, she opened her mouth to speak, having the perfect sentence to tell him, only to clamp up. Someone was behind her, coughing to grab her attention.

“Uhm, Lady Aria… Do you… Do you know this man?”

It was the chef. Aria put on a pleasant smile, turning around and accepting his bow with the nod of her head. What excuse could she give him? The truth was out of the question. If the rebels were made, then that would mean the end for her. She needed to think of something, and fast.

“... No… I don’t?”

“No?!” While he mouthed the words, Roy might as well have been shrieking from how shrill it was. Aria sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. She knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it was the best she could come up with. Years of court training, wasted. 

“Right.” The chef drew out the word, his brows furrowed. There was no way to salvage the conversation, at least in any way that it would make sense. He opted for the next best thing, changing the topic. “Well, since you’re here, I’d love to discuss the dinner menu with you. Have a second opinion and all that. It’s for the upcoming Harvest Festival Celebration we’ll be having in the castle.”

“Yes!” Aria grinned, thankful that she would be stepping away from the disaster that just happened. “Of course, I’d love to offer any help.”

She shot a stern look to Roy, who was already snickering. “What a nutter. Who argues with a stranger?” She could hear him mumble, and Aria paused, staring right back at him.

“Not another word.”

The chef paused, looking behind for Aria. She bounced up, stepping over to where his notebook was laid out. He spoke, asking questions, scribbling down ideas. It was basic, but for once, Aria felt heard. 

She looked over at Roy every so often. Even when he paid her no mind there was always the same expression on his face. Cheerful, with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. 

‘ _Stupid man_.’ She felt bitter about the situation, already having regretted the decision of approaching him. At this rate, all of their covers would be blown, all because of… Aria paused. It wouldn’t be her fault, it would be theirs! Out of all people, why pick Roy? Why not pick someone she didn’t know? 

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s a wonderful start,” Aria replied with a smile. His worries, while valid, were the least of hers. She smiled once more, a promise to help again, and then she left. If Roy was out of sight, he would be out of mind. And that would be better for all parties in the long run.

•••

Evening arrived, bringing with it the stars and the coldness of autumn. For Aria, it was a sign for her to leave the castle for a bit. She couldn’t go back to Millfields, not when the party was being set up. Yet, the castle itself was starting to become a danger zone for her.

Logan had still not spoken to her, making quick comments and always finding himself in another meeting. It was hard to get any word in, and so Aria spent her time in the library. Avoiding the rebels also proved to be a challenge, not when she couldn’t figure out who was a potential threat. 

Everything there brought her to the edge, there was only one place that brought her peace in Bowerstone. The bookstore, its door hidden amidst two buildings in the town square. It was the perfect place for her to go and hide.

“Hey! Hold on!”

Shouting from behind, loud enough to cause her panic. Aria spun, coming face to face with Roy who had sprinted from the castle. His hands waved in the air, no doubt due to some unknown excitement. She could only groan. Apparently peace wasn’t something she’d find tonight.

“Hey, wait!” There was laughter in his voice, and Roy stopped right next to her. He bounced on the balls of his feet, far too excited and much like a small child ready to play. The biggest of grins on his face as he watched her go from annoyed to exasperated.

“What do _you_ need?” Aria reigned in her fading patience, forcing her words through gritted teeth. It was the best she could do, given the circumstances.

“Need a companion for your walk home?”

“Oh ho! What a gentleman! Call the press, this is news for the ages!” She sighed, a sharp look was sent his way. “No thanks. I have no desire to walk home. So, with that in mind, bugger off.”

Roy paused, stopping in his tracks. A contemplating look on his features as he turned to the stars in the sky, smiling blissfully, as if he was unaware of Aria’s tone. After a moment, his grin returned, stretching from ear to ear. “No need to make myself scarce, it’s a nice night after all. And who knows? You might need help from a pretty boy again. Wouldn’t want you to trip and fall now.”

Her face burned as the memory replayed in her mind. Of course the dimwit would remember something that was mortifying to her. Roy probably collected all her worst memories so he could bring them up later. 

“You’re absolutely impossible you-you little... vain gnat!”

The clown knew he was handsome, he could flaunt it and get his way with so many people. There was a ruggish elegance to him, and if he could wash away the stink of his personality, Aria was fully convinced he could pass as a noble of the court. She huffed, turning away from his gaze. She could fall for these charms too if she wasn’t careful, and that was a terrifying thing to face.

His response was a soft noise, which Aria found more infuriating than another of his crude jokes. At least with that, she could be more angry. But pity just made her feel embarrassed. Roy followed after Aria, trying to catch her face as she spun out of his way. 

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” A boyish laugh, and Aria’s lips pursed together. He was right. “Don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first person to call me pretty.”

“Wonderful!” She spat, finally having the strength to look him in the eye. Aria would simply have to shove down all forms of embarrassment and self-conscious feelings into a little barrel, at least when dealing with him. “I’ve added another compliment to your unnecessary, ego-boosting list.”

“It’s not unnecessary. I like it when pretty women are adding to it. Makes me all warm and happy.”

“How sweet. I should start a list of my own.” She pushed past him, beelining it towards the bookstore. He wasn’t going to waste anymore of her precious time. And hopefully, if the gods were in her corner, Roy would be smart enough to get the hint.

“You haven’t made one of your own?” He clicked his tongue, stepping around to land a place by her side. “A shame. Good thing I said something. Help you to get it started.”

“Oh shut it,” she muttered, letting him open the door for her. Aria entered inside after Roy sent her a wink. 

The bookstore had a particular smell to it. A mixture of old books and beeswax candles. Of mildew and heavy perfume. It was an eclectic smell that brought a smile to her face. Little to her surprise, Roy followed inside. He gagged at the smell, using a hand to cover his nose. 

Aria couldn’t help but laugh, keeping to herself as she went to the top floor. A trail of book carts, and corner chairs led her to a spot on the far side of the wall. Plenty of books to sort through, and many she hadn’t had a chance to pick through the last time she was here. 

All was quiet and empty, save for a woman sitting in the corner. For a moment, Aria forgot everything else, watching as she huddled together with her knees up to her chin. The woman’s hair was dark, hanging in a low ponytail that brushed the floor. Her dark eyes were glued to the pages, something interesting no doubt. Aria couldn’t make out the title, its cover was far too faded.

Roy reached past Aria, startling her out of her stupor. He fiddled with the binding, opening a book and browsing through. Whatever he grabbed, he was dissatisfied with it, as a grunt left his throat. “Nothing good there.”

“And what are you looking for, pray tell.”

“I’m looking for interesting. Something that… _grabs_.. my attention.” He looked past Aria, his gaze landing upon the woman. “Now, that’s different.”

Aria turned to face him, pushing at his shoulder to get him to focus somewhere else. “Grab a book and stop talking. I wouldn’t say bothering her is considered interesting.”

Roy’s brows raised, a bewildered look. “Don’t be pouty. I’m simply curious, doesn’t look like a Bowerstone local. Besides jealous, jealous Aria, you’re the only pretty one I fancy.”

“You aren’t much of a reader, are you?”

“I am!” He protested. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“Because you never shut up!!”

A hiss from the other end of the room caused Aria and Roy to become silent. They paused, turning to the sitting woman. Her stare was intense, and it was clear from where they stood that her eyes screamed of wild frustration.

“Please stop. Be quiet.” Her voice was gravelly, quiet and unused. This was a person who did not speak to others often. She kept to herself, that was clear from her demeanor but even her voice. And that accent, Aria heard it before, a long time ago.

“We apologize. We’ll be taking our leave.” Aria’s words came out in a rush, and her bow to the woman was sloppy. She grabbed at Roy’s hand, yanking him towards the stairs. “Have a good night- Roy, _seriously_ , stop fighting,” she whispered the last part, jerking at his arm when he tried to pull away.

“Damn you, I’m not doing anything wrong!” He shot back, trying to pull away from her grip. 

“Come. Here.” Aria led him down the stairs, listening to him fumble for the railing to catch a grip. Down to the first floor and out the door, beelining straight to the clocktower.

With a heavy breath, she released his hand. “Alright. Alright,” she grabbed at her face, opting to pace around. “We’re done. Go home. To the sewers, an apartment, anywhere. I don’t care. Go.”

“What?!” Roy’s face contorted into confusion, throwing his hands up in the air to match the emotions he expressed. “No… No, not yet… Aria… What the fuck was that? Why did you run out of there? Did she spook you that badly? Did you forget how to use your words? Words you’re good at? I don’t understand.”

She had expected anger, frustration from his tone, but instead it was worry, confusion, uncertainty. Roy was trying to understand the situation, and Aria could only stare him down.

“Have you met anyone from the Eastern Kingdom?” she shot back. “Because she’s from there. I can guarantee you that.”

“What? So? That’s besides the point… Wait, how-how do you know that?”

“The clothing. The accent. And no one from the Eastern Kingdom ever lives this far out west unless they’re a dignitary or they’re being hunted. Frankly, I don’t want to find out which. This could mean trouble for us.”

Roy scoffed, grabbing at the bridge of his nose. He let out another exasperated scoff, and turned to Aria with such an expression it caused her to let out a startled laugh. For a moment, she forgot all about her emotions and instead focused on being the frustrating one in their odd, little relationship.

“You make my head hurt! What if she’s none of that?” Roy asked. “You don’t know, I don’t know. So this probably means you shouldn’t run the fuck off every time someone throws a polite _‘stop’_ your way. Seriously, you have such bite around me, but the moment someone else argues with you there’s hesitation and overthinking.”

She paused. He was right, unfortunately. Aria did have a tendency to run whenever the opposition was sending out a serious attack. If her defensive choice of words didn’t work, she was a lost cause. But Roy didn’t need to know that. What was he going to do? Give her tips on how to work on her spiraling anxiety? Practice scenes with her? It all made Aria glum.

“Regardless,” Aria deterred, wanting a change. “It seemed like she wanted to be left alone. Hmmm, sounds familiar to my situation.”

Roy let out a sigh, something was whispered underneath his breath. Eventually, he turned to Aria, looking at her with an unamused look. “Don’t want me by your side? Letting you know, you’re missing out.”

“Seriously, Roy? You must be daft!” Aria plopped herself down on the steps of the clocktower, returning to covering her face. “Every conversation we’ve had has ended with me in some sort of disaster. The first time we met, it ended up in such disarray that I nearly died! The second time, well many things happened, but we had that fiasco with the guards! The _guards_! And today? You know about today. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. What do you want from me? Haven’t I been plenty pathetic for you. Gerald’s already threatened me, and now I have to be mortified daily for all my choices and mistakes…. I don’t know what I’m doing…” 

With a pause, Roy shifted from one foot to the other. A small half walk to the steps and then he sat down right next to her. “Let’s wipe the slate clean, Aria. We need to.” He leaned forward, looking at her with the faintest of smiles. It was the first time she thought it to be a genuine one. How hard to have in front of her. Her favorite smile of all, coming from this man.

“Really? A clean slate, you? That’s hard to believe.”

“Aria, I’ve got to apologize. You’re a member, a part of it all. We’ve got to look out for each other.”

She sighed, looking back at him. “Is that why you’re at the castle?”

“To keep an eye on you? Yes. Although, unfortunately, you’re quite the handful. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. _Ouch_!” He let out a grunt from the smack she dealt him, only to fall into a fitful of laughter seconds later. “I’m here to help! Don’t hurt the helper!”

“Ughh, you’ve already been such shoddy help!”

“Well you only need to ask! Answers to questions, information moved, all that shit blah blah… Or, you know… A listening ear. I’ll be here for you.”

Aria sat for a moment, thinking of every choice that led her to this moment. Sitting here with Roy, speaking with him, having a genuine conversation. To find out that he seemed a decent person, someone worth knowing, well Aria felt even more confused. Perhaps she only saw his worst sides, and now it was time to get to know his better sides. She sighed, maybe Roy deserved another chance…

“Come on. Let’s walk.” She grabbed for his hand, squeezing lightly. It was enough for him, and in one smooth motion Roy stood, pulling her up alongside him.

“Are you _actually_ inviting me somewhere?” His grin was infectious, and Aria found herself laughing. With them so close together, she had to blush. Here was her handsome rouge, sweeping her off her feet. He smelled different today. A good different. Not of sewers and gunpowder, but of citrus and tea leaves. Something she never would have expected him to smell.

“Well, if I’m to have you around, you might as well make yourself useful. Accompany me around Old Town. I heard it’s pleasant this time of night.”

“My pleasure.”

Another laugh escaped her, and he took her arm in his. As they walked towards the quiet streets of Old Town, Aria could only think one thought. That this was what she wanted. At least, this is what she dreamed of wanting. Right now, she was a girl walking alongside her storybook rogue. There was no war, no fighting, no troubles and deceit. It was just her and Roy, and she would smile at that.

•••

Morning came around, leaving Aria in the same blissful mood as she felt last night. Her talk with Roy had opened up new possibilities of friendship. She would have to admit the whiplash of it all was something else, but here she was, a new friend in tow.

There was little for her to do in the castle. Logan was nowhere to be found, and work was minimal. Still, Aria was hard-pressed to return to Millfields. Reaver was to have his party, and she wanted nothing to do with it. Before, during, or after. If that meant staying another night - even two - in Bowerstone with no one wanting to speak with her, then so be it. But she wasn’t going to spend her day cooped up inside while outside was lovely.

She slipped out the back, moving through the quieter streets before taking off towards the outskirts of Bowerstone. Beautiful as always, the coolness of air renewing her spirit. For once, Aria was sure that her day would be pleasant.

“Missive for you.”

The voice startled her, so familiar and yet so distant. Where did she hear it before? Aria spun, noting how empty the streets were. And then the figure came into view. She was alone with Gerald of all people.

A deep sigh left her. “Couldn’t you have given this to me while I was still in the castle?”

“No.” He placed the note in her hand. Simple instructions written inside. To meet Erik and Page in the base. It should have been written to Gerald, considering she didn’t know where to go.

“Well? Do I get an escort?”

“Yes, I’m to take you there.”

“Very good… Let’s... get a move on.”

Gerald did not turn around, instead continuing forward far from the city’s entrance and towards a row of small houses. Either this was an execution disguised as a meeting, or the sewers really did have dozens of secret entrances. 

He made his way into a small, overgrown garden near the last house. Pulling up vines and dried flowers revealed a cellar door, already unlocked. Where this would lead, Aria could only hope it was the sewers. 

‘ _I really need to stop following strange people into dark tunnels_ ,’ she thought, gesturing for Gerald to take the lead. The doors shut behind them, and surprising to Aria, they did not find complete darkness. Lanterns lined against the wall provided a dim light, letting them move without trouble. Who lit these lights was a question she had, but not important enough to ask Gerald. There were better people to ask than him.

He led her down winding halls, some were long and narrow and others were quick corner turns that sent her reeling. The sewers were chaotic, and the tunnels had no structure to them - unlike the city streets above. In time, she’d hope to learn all its secrets. Surely the sewers had history behind them, they had been around so long. But right now, Aria found it hopeless and confusing. If left by herself, she’d surely die of starvation before finding a proper exit. 

Another hall, and then Aria could hear it. At first, it was faint, but grew in volume the closer they neared. Voices. Talking and laughing, a whole group of soldiers and rebels alike. They were so close and yet Aria could not see the specific people. Gerald had stopped them right in front of the door.

“Go ahead. Enter.” He said after knocking, gesturing for her to go. And when she turned the handle, Gerald left her.

Inside stood a group of people. Some faces she had never seen before, but there were plenty she knew. Erik, Page, Walter, and… Her heart dropped to her stomach. There was Major Swift. Why wasn’t she expecting him there? Of course he’d join the rebels after all that happened between him and the Crown.

“Aria?” Erik called out, standing taller than all of them. The concern on his face was clear, yet she tried to mask hers with a pleasant smile. “Are you alright?” 

“Of-of course… Is… Something the matter?” The anxiety returned. She was a fool to have thought it’d gone away for the day, that her life would go smoothly.

“Well-” Erik began, only to be cut off by Page.

“-Yes. I’m having a hard time believing that your allegiance is worth all of this trouble.” Page was quick, her words were level in tone even if their intention was not. “Just last night, my men - good men - infiltrated Reaver’s manor. They were supposed to arrive this morning, and yet, I’ve heard nothing. There’s no sign of their presence or if they’re even alive.”

“Are you blaming me for their disappearance?” Aria was just as quick. This time, she wouldn’t try to run away. This was a fight she had to win, it was for her own good.

“What else am I to believe?” Page questioned, hands on her hips as she paced the room. Those in her way parted, spacing out to give her distance. Her authority, while terrifying, was something to be commended. She had the power to move mountains, and apparently to lead Rebellions. “Believe that you didn’t sell us out? Believe that Reaver wasn’t waiting for my men? Believe there wasn’t a trap laid out? I can’t tell if you’re a conniving little fox or just callow. And I don’t-”

“Page!” Erik finally snapped. Like everyone else in the room, he moved to her command. Yet, unlike the rest, he was the only one who could challenge her expertise. “Hold on. Please. Let’s figure out the truth.”

She sighed, stopping in her tracks. “Go on, Erik, play diplomat while our people are getting killed.”

Erik’s face twisted into a grimace. Pulling at her sleeves, Page and him traded whispered blows to one another. Aria could only shudder as she overheard key words aimed towards her. How had such a lovely morning turn into… this?

“Dear girl. Now what really happened?” Swift approached her, the usual swagger in his step remained. It had never faded. If this were a different situation, Aria would have smiled. But no, while his tone was kind, Aria wasn’t going to cave in. There was no way he had forgotten her role in his last station.

“I’m not sure,” she whispered, voice immediately returning to a normal level. “I’ve been at the castle all day. Well, besides that one hour I stopped by the manor to get letters for Logan.”

“And pray tell, what was in these letters?”

“I-I wouldn’t know… I didn’t think to look in them. It’s probably business or something of the sorts.”

“You didn’t look inside?” Page’s question trumped over all of them. She ignored Erik’s whispers, storming over to the table. Her stare caused Aria to blanch. “It could have been valuable information, something to help our cause, and yet you chose to hand it off like a pair of cheap slippers!”

“I’m not an expert in these things!! If you had wanted me to be a perfect little soldier, then you should have taught me these skills!” She shrieked.

All these days of mingling with the rebels had finally gotten to her. The sneaking, the constant lies, the confusion, the morals that seemed to bend and break. The betrayal and guilt she didn’t know how to handle. What was really wrong? What was really right? Aria couldn’t tell anymore. These expectations were beyond her.

“It seems I have an answer to a question of mine. You are simply naive.” With the wave of her hand, all those who had retreated towards the walls approached the table. They spoke of ideas and plans, ignoring Aria as if she was nothing.

Aria nodded along, their voices becoming distant noise. Page was right. She was a naive little thing. She was unsure, inexperienced, and knew nothing of the outside world. Aria had played her games in the castle, thinking she was making a difference as she pranced around in manors and courts, of castles and nobility. In reality, she did none of those things.

This was nothing close to what she had expected. Her books could never have prepared her for what a rebellion really meant. What the costs were and what to expect. She didn’t know what to do, how to handle these whirring emotions. Whatever she thought she knew, Aria realized that she had much more growing up to do.

A gentle hand on her arm, Erik guided her to a chair far away from all the commotion and talking and plans. He took her hands, a firm squeeze until her attention was on him. “Aria.”

At first, she felt defeated and unsure. All of it was clear on her face. And then all of that turned into fumes. He could feel it too, the Will that bubbled underneath her fingertips ready to lash out. She’s angry. At them, at the world, at what she has to decide. But most of all, Aria is angry at herself. 

Erik’s words are the barest of a whisper. “This is fixable.”

“What if they’re killed, Erik?” She whispered back. Every word threatened to break on her, to erupt into the screaming fit she felt inside. “What then? Am I next?”

“Over my dead body. I’ve only got you and Logan. There’s _nothing_ I wouldn’t do to do to protect you both.”

“You don’t have to do such things.”

“Yes, I do and I will. Without question.” His tone was fierce, powerful, and Aria could feel the Will underneath his own hands. He meant every word. “I don’t care how much of an idealist it makes me, or what sort of trouble I’d find myself in, I can’t live without you two. I promise you, this situation… This I can fix. For you both, I’d change the world in your favors.”

She can only shake her head. “I need to grow up, Erik. I’m still a child.”

“We both are. That’s alright. We’ll grow up together, just like we always have.”

As if his words could really change the world, just like that, Aria smiled. They were both sheltered children, living far away from the troubles of the world. Their dangers were different from everyone else’s, and reality would always be a hard thing to come to terms with.

And yet… Erik had handled it brilliantly when the time came. He was thrown into the position of rebel prince, journeying through Albion to learn about the horrors the regular person faced. Would time help Aria achieve the same understanding as Erik? It would be hard… It always was hard for her to adapt… Her own fears were holding her back. Maybe this Rebellion would free more than Albion’s people… 

“Do you remember the manor’s layout?” Aria asked, causing Erik to pause from the suddenness of her question. Regardless, he nodded, ready to listen. “Good. There’s a party tonight for the Secret Society. Do you recall Lord Arlington’s party? It’s that type of garish clothing, it’s what they’ll all wear.”

Erik gave a crooked smile, “I’m sure I’ll find something in my closet.” He turned to leave, but Aria grabbed tight at his sleeve.

“Be prepared. He’ll recognize you. Avoid him at all costs. Don’t arrive too early, and don’t arrive too late. Cover up your hands, everyone in the manor remembers the scars on your hands. They’re awfully recognizable.”

Out of instinct, Erik clenched his left hand. Aria knew the story too well, the day the young prince almost lost his fingers. She was there back then, healing up the tears and cuts up until only scars remained. It was something he kept hidden from all, a grim reminder that some secrets would always cost a price.

“Oddly enough, he knows your eyes too well, and the way you walk. Find a way to cover it up. Enter through the front, and pray that it’s someone else besides Barry who greets you.” She paused, knowing exactly what he was about to ask. “I’d best stay here. Wouldn’t want them to think I’ve exposed you all. Reaver knows I’ll be out for the day. He doesn’t need to know where.”

“Thank you, cousin.”

With that, he clapped waiting for all eyes in the room to turn to him. The rebel prince knew how to command a space. Aria could only smile, listening as he detailed his plan and what to expect. She watched as Page’s face turned from scorn, to interest, and then to determination.

Page glanced over at Aria, a faint smile on her own features as she nodded. It was their first positive interaction, as far as Aria could tell. With time, perhaps they’d have more. And with even more time, Aria herself would know what type of person she wanted to be. What a type of person she would become to make herself proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back! New update for you all c: Comments and kudos are super appreciated!
> 
> Had a bit of trouble figuring out where to end the chapter. Originally it was going to be wayyyy longer, but I decided to save the relationship building with the rebels for the next chapter. Also, I was planning to stop after Roy and Aria’s talk, but decided that the next chunk fit into the overall “vibe” of the chapter. 
> 
> Does anyone have any suggestions on how to come up with chapter titles? They used to be so easy for me, but now it seems like it takes weeks to think of a good one. Callow was the… third? fourth? title I came up with. It definitely works. I’ve tried generators and all that, but nothing sticks. 
> 
> And! One last bit of information! [I have a playlist for the series!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3MVB7rvD5Kg8jerps9ojSj?si=zBl-0hWSQB-9KHqe0BZeDw) I'll be adding more songs as time goes on. Please give it a listen and a follow c: There's other playlists for my other stories, so take a look at those too!!
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	9. Social Rapport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending the evening in the rebel base proves fruitful, and Aria learns more about her new companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Language

It was after a conversation she was not privy to that Aria was invited to stay at the base. And perhaps, it was for the best. Regardless of their motivation of making sure she didn’t rat them out, she would prefer to not be anywhere else. The manor was off limits and the castle less like a respite. Besides, Aria would be the first to admit she needed additional help in the ways of rebel-like deeds. 

“If you have any trouble, find Walter.” Erik was quick when he passed her a second time in the hall. A fluid motion, he slipped on a jacket, straying at the edge of the door where Aria stood. There was something in the way he waited, wanting to say more, wanting to do more. “I’ll fix this, I promise.” It was what he eventually landed on, speaking the words with an awkward shuffle.

“As you’ve said over and over. Erik Tucker, don’t worry about me. I will have to own up to my mistakes. And it’s about time I start now.”

“This time, it isn’t your mistake.” He paused, noting Page slipping out to the side. “I’ll be back. It’s going to be fine. Go to Walter if you need-”

“ _-help_.” She smiled, finishing the sentence. A nod in Page’s direction was all it took for Erik to hush up. He let out a weak smile of his own, and then he left. A blue light fizzling around him as he took Page’s hand, and then they were gone. Totally enveloped in magic.

“Amazing…” Aria whispered. Faint traces of Will lingered in the air. This… this was strong magic. This was part of the Old Kingdom. This was just like her abilities.

“If not for its usefulness, I wonder who out there would consider it to be dark magic?” 

Major Swift stepped into view, taking a spot next to Aria. His pondering made her pause. There had to be a reason why he was speaking to her. He was trained in matters of the court, after all. There was always a reason.

“Cullis gates are hardly dark magic. Even seals provide ways for all to travel easily throughout Albion. Quite useful to have.”

“History is quite fascinating, is it not?”

“Absolutely,” she sucked in her breath. “Although, at times, it appears that history is not for everyone.”

“That is so, but those who are connoisseurs of it have my deepest respects.” Swift gestured to the dayroom. “Come, dear girl, let’s get you situated with our place of operation.”

Walter trailed behind them as they made their way over to the tables. The place had become much quieter upon their arrival. Whoever sat in the area had either dispersed or grown eerily silent. Those who remained played their cards in silence.

Both men were unphased, shuffling around a table and setting chairs down. Swift was quick, pulling out a chair with a graceful bow, a gesture for Aria to take a seat. ‘ _Definitely court trained_ ,’ she thought, holding the edge of her skirt as she slid in. There was a lot to work with here, and a lot to watch out for. She swallowed her words, taking another glance about the room. 

They didn’t need to stare to make her feel even more out of place. It had dawned on her that she looked out of place too. Clean, prim attire, hair that didn’t smell of sewer and trash. Faces smeared with dirt. These were all aspects that didn’t apply to her. 

“Trouble seems to find you, doesn’t it?” Walter began with a hearty laugh, taking her out of her thoughts. He, for one, was not as worried as her. Did nothing trouble him? Aria had a hard time believing he had any fears.

“Hopefully it won’t become a habit. I’m rather fond of simplicity. These past weeks have been… A tad eventful for my liking.”

Swift played a smile, only laughing at her words. Another sigh, and she forced herself to smile. That knowing look from him sent all too many signals: This was going to get even more chaotic for her, and it wouldn’t be any easier. Aria went for her drink, taking a sip as the two men gravitated towards a new conversation.

The mood was just like the castle. Why in Avo’s name did she think it was going to be any easier for her? Sure, now she felt like she could do something and feel important, but it brought a whole new world of trouble. And what was she expecting? To become good friends with the rebels, that they’d accept her in a heartbeat? No, it was a child’s wish.

A silence took over their conversation, and both men looked at her. Oblivious to what had happened, Aria peered up at them, a light look on her features. Had they said something that she was supposed to respond to? Did something else happen? 

She sighed through her nose. Years of court training, speaking practices, why were these abilities diminishing on her? Was her over thinking finally taking over, leaving her to struggle alone. 

“Might I ask-” she began, only to stop when a bout of laughter filled the room. A flash of red in her peripheral, and she sees him. Her words stopped, lost in the air.

“Benjamin! Over here, lad!” Swift called to the soldier, gesturing for him to join their table. And within seconds, Ben was there, standing between Walter and Swift. His smile reached from one ear to the other. Another of her favorite expressions, how could he encompass them all?

“Swiftie, Walter, how’s it going? Aria, it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

He swiveled on one foot, moving around the table to take a seat next to her. His elbows propped up onto the table, and in a moment, he joined the conversation as if he already was a part of it. It made her blanche. What was up with these rebels and how suave they were?

“Where’ve you been off to? Hiding?” Walter asked, quirking up a greying bushy brow.

“The usual training. Gotta keep the newcomers in shape, although, they should ask Aria for some pointers.” He turned to her, chin in his hand. “Ghoulie’s still reeling from the broken nose you gave him. Where’d you learn to fight dirty like that? Some fancy finishing school Walter’s never mentioned?”

Walter’s belly laugh filled the room. Not only was her expression laughable, Ben’s own added words had brought another wave. Of course the old man knew the truth of the matter, and it was even worse that she would have to admit it. She shot him a look before clearing her throat.

“It was dumb luck, Benjamin.” She began carefully, head in her palm as a weak sigh left her. “I’ve never learned to properly fight, or hold a rifle… His poor nose suffered due to my lack of strength, it seems. The rifle _was_ a bit heavy.”

“And _you’re_ the Hero of Skill’s daughter?” As he looked to the others in disbelief, they only shrugged. It seemed even the Major knew that she was a weakling in the fighting disciplines.

“My interests lie in books and knowledge. So no, I know nothing of guns or swordplay. All of that is a foreign concept to me.”

“Appears we’ll have to fix that, you’re part of the group now.” A quick wink was sent her way, and before she could react he turned to the others. “What do you think? Adding a new student shouldn’t be a hassle.”

Sift plucked at his mustache, nodding along to Walter’s hum of approval. “With war brewing around the corner, it’ll become necessary.”

“I doubt that it’s _that_ necessary-” she began, only to be cut off by a guffaw. 

“Let’s go, Aria. This is the least I can do for a new friend.”

Ben’s pleading look made her grimace. It wasn’t pathetic or upsetting, but she couldn’t help by caving into herself. This wasn’t the way she thought she’d be growing, or if this was even a way to go about it.

“Sure, he’ll talk your ear off, but he’s a good shot,” Walter bellowed, laughing even louder than before.

A huff, and then she curled her fingers into the fabric of her skirt. “All right, fine. Why not? Excuse me, gentlemen. I’ve got some practicing to do.”

•••

“Here. Your form’s off again.”

His hands move around her body, adjusting the rifle on her shoulder. An inch lower, and her heart beats faster in response. She glanced, a small sideways look to see if he could catch her gaze or something that noted anything. But there was nothing, at least nothing that would convince her that he was paying attention to anything other than her stance. 

“Right… Thank you,” Aria whispered, following his hands to adjust the weapon. Another shot, and this time she hit her mark. 

“I thought you’d have an easier time with this. Don’t you have a natural affinity for it?” Ben laughed, peering out at the targets. Most of her shots had made it to the wall behind, and not the bullseye itself. “Well, at least you hit it. Won’t do much in a fight, but we’re getting somewhere.”

She huffed, lowering the weapon to her side. “It seems I take more after my mother’s side of the family.”

It was a comment she knew would catch his attention, and Ben moved around her to take a hold of the weapon. For a moment, he paused, flicking up the safety absentmindedly before turning to her. A look on his face as he watched her, and then turned to the hall and then back to her. His mouth opened and then closed, eventually he settled with a light chuckle. 

“Are you curious?”

“Always.” He replied, eager as a young child. “That side of the family… Are they, you know… Magic users?”

Aria nodded. “You see, my grand-uncle is Garth-”

“ _The_ Garth?! You’re talking about the bloke who helped Queen Sparrow all those years ago? The man who helped with Lucien and his crazed ideals?”

“My oh my, well Sparrow wouldn’t have told it quite like you did, but yes. That’s him.” She laughed when a particular look crossed his features, and once more did she nod. A bitter feeling washed over her thoughts, and then another. “Let’s get back to practicing.”

Ben waved a hand, almost as if he was trying to dismiss the request to the side. “Wait, wait, _wait_ , not so fast. You can’t just start a story that good and leave midway through. Come on, as a fellow storyteller, I should let you know some rules are being broken.”

“Good thing I’m no storyteller then,” she patted the side of the rifle. “Well then, practice sounds much more fun now, doesn’t it?”

A startled laugh left him, followed by a look of utter shock. “Darling, I’ll admit, this rejection… I’m taking it hard.” He clasped his hands together, puppy eyes and all. “Please. Just a sliver. Your whole lineage is marked by Heroes. Not everyone gets that.”

His tone gave her pause, and Aria sat herself on one of the crates. Her fingers intertwined together as small memories played in her mind. Was this another aspect of her naivety? Or perhaps she should consider her privilege, and how Ben was right. She was one of the rare few who could say they had Hero blood all around. 

“It’s true, I suppose.” She began, a hint of caution in her tone. “But don’t fool yourself Benjamin, there’s really nothing extraordinary about the whole ordeal. Just because my legacy is grand, does not make the product just as much.”

“That’s bullshit.”

A guffaw followed his words, and it startled her. With a raised eyebrow, she looked over to him. “I beg your pardon.”

“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it too. You’re telling me that you don’t believe you’re Hero material? Erik said the same thing, and look where he’s at. It’s possible, it’s always possible.”

Aria’s nose scrunched up, all she could do was face the other way. Had she ever heard those words before? Said genuinely at least? It would be rare. Sure, this was a compliment from an attractive man, but this was more of a compliment of a man who had a desire to see the past alive once more. Now that was something she could relate to.

It was easy to forget that her legacy would never mean anything if she didn’t do anything to honor it. Sometimes all she could picture her legacy being was an absentee father and a dead mother.

“Another day perhaps.”

And that was that. Ben nodded, taking a step back. To give her space or to separate himself from the questions that still lingered in the air, Aria couldn’t tell, but she was appreciative. Another sigh from both of them, and all she could do was peer back at him and stare. At least he had given her this moment. She rarely had to talk in-depth about the non-royal members of her family… It would take time for her to say more.

“You still want to practice?” He asked after a minute. And when she nodded, a smile bloomed on his face.

•••

Their practice session lasted longer than expected. And while Aria would admit her skills with weaponry didn’t change much, her footwork had improved. It was when another batch of rebels joined their session, did she opt out of the situation. Not everyone had to see how much she still had to improve on. 

Ben perked up as she took a step back. His hands held cleaning equipment, and his fingers dirtied from gunpowder and grim. She wouldn’t take up anymore of his time. Especially when it wasn’t the two of them anymore.

“Don’t be afraid to come back,” he smiled.

She returned the expression. “Wouldn’t dream of missing another moment like this.”

The halls had a quietness about them, and the lobby’s energy had all but faded by the time she found her way back. Only two voices lingered, their whispers reaching her ears the closer she came. Aria couldn’t help but listen. She was curious, yes, but also the knowledge of knowing a secret was something she couldn’t pass up.

“- know he’s done nothing for the cause these past few months.” Swift’s voice carried to her ears, and Aria stood quiet, pressing herself against one of the walls. “I grow tired of his selectivism.”

“He’s supported from all over.” Another voice sprang up. Easily enough, it was Walter. “What’re your plans?”

“If this indifference persists, I will go out to the castle myself and-”

Someone grabbed her shoulders, and she spun around forcefully. The palm of her hand knocked into something hard, and only a groan echoed in response. Roy reached for his jaw, taking a step back from her. 

“Alert the presses,” he hissed out, still rubbing the side of his face. “We may have a Hero of Strength here.”

“What are you doing?!” Her voice was shrill, as she scrambled back to hear the remainder of the conversation. Alas, nothing caught on. No doubt they had heard the talking. Who could they have been referring to? “ _Bastard_!”

“All I was trying to do was say hello, but seems that was out of the question.” An expression lingered on his face, one she couldn’t quite place. Did he know something she didn’t? Who was she kidding, Roy almost always knew something Aria didn’t.

“Saying hello normally doesn’t involve startling someone!”

“Eh, it was a Bloodstone greeting. You’ll get used to it.” His eyebrow quirked up, and he stood there in the darkness, watching her carefully. Eventually, something inside him clicked and he shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I want to sit. How about you?”

“That would be _lovely_.” She followed after him to the open area, and to her surprise, Walter and Swift were still there. Instead of whispering, they were playing a game. Aria took her seat next to the latter, watching as Walter splayed out the cards.

“Joining in on a round?” He asked both of them, and when he had a confirming nod, more cards were laid out. The first card was flipped over and then a second. 

‘ _Who could they have been talking about? Gerald?_ ’ She mulled over the thought in her head, watching more cards flip over. ‘ _He’s a likely option… Then again, my only option. Who else could it be? Who else?_ ’

Walter flipped the last card, and Aria paused. Only time would tell what would happen.

•••

Hours passed, and the base lulled into a gentle silence. There had been drinking and laughing, followed by vomiting and dancing. But that had been hours ago. Now, most everyone had fallen asleep, and Aria wondered how the night sky looked right now. When Erik returned, then she would go out to see.

She busied herself with the odd collection of books found thrown about the base. Most of its pages had been ripped out, and Aria could only imagine for what purpose. But the books she did find intact were a decent read. Roy sat close, a novel covering his face as a small snore left him.

“How long has he been like this?” Ben approached, laughing at the state of his fellow rebel. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, his training had lasted longer than expected.

Aria simply peeked over, snapping her book shut with the flick of her fingers. “A good hour, I would say. He, and I quote, said ‘ _reading this will be easy!_ ’. And then he dozed off.” The memory of it brought a wave of giggles from her. For a supposed reader, he sure didn’t last long when sentences were put into his hands.

“Dangerous Things: Industrial Machinery. No wonder the poor bugger fell asleep.” In one smooth gesture, Ben knocked the book off of Roy’s face. The other man startled awake, jumping up to a defensive stance. Only spotting the culprit did his expression change. Furrowed brows and a scowl. And without a second to question, he leapt forward, tackling Ben to the ground.

He jumped up, avoiding a sweeping leg and ran to the other side of the room. Aria was startled, watching it all go down. It was only when a loud cough echoed through the room, did both men freeze. Erik Tucker stood underneath one of the archways, arms crossed accompanied by an amused look.

The prince’s face was smeared with dirt and dry blood, the layers from his masquerade outfit had been buttoned down to reveal an undershirt. Every other piece was full of cuts and slices, and whatever vibrancy had before, it was long faded now.

“Erik!” Aria spoke first, her eyes wide with shock. “What happened?!” She pushed past a standing Ben, sending him back to the floor with a grunt.

“Do you need healing?” Her words were whispered, but they carried throughout the room. And instead of a nod, he only laughed. Another look was thrown when he continued with a bout of laughter.

“Not much of this blood is mine. Your father has the strangest parties.”

“What kind of mad man has hobbes and hollowmen in his home?!” Page stormed into the room, wiping at her face with a wet cloth. While she was in a similar state as the prince, she at least took the initiative to clean up. “And balverines as guests?”

“I-I apologize… What?” Aria stared at the two of them, waiting for a punchline. But… nothing. Their expression said it all. Her father actually was eccentric enough to have something like that in the manor, she wasn’t sure why she was all that stunned. Reaver was a tiresome enigma that she could never read. Situation after situation proved that to her. And a wave of disappointment washed over her. She really didn’t know anything… 

“I’m glad you two are safe.” It was all she could say in a quiet voice. Roy and Ben hovered, joining the conversation.

“ _Three_ of us,” Erik corrected easily, throwing a thumb to point behind him. “Kidd survived. We got him back.”

Ben smiled, taking Roy as they walked away to go greet their friend. And Aria instead looked at Page who refused to return the gaze. There was still pain and blame, all aimed towards her, and she understood.

“I’m sorry about your friends.” Aria whispered, hoping that Page would hear.

The rebel’s leader paused, and there was no doubt she heard. But there was nothing, and Aria smiled, nodding to herself more than anything. She understood.

“... Thank you.” Page’s words were short, but they were genuine enough for Aria no matter how delayed the response had been. “Come on, Your Highness. Best to let Walter know we’re back.”

Erik waved at her, keeping up with Page as she walked. The rise of his cheeks, and a laugh. Aria watched as they walked out of view, into the darkness of the sewers. A sigh from her as she stood all alone in the room. At least they were all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finallyyyy, another update! Thank you all for waiting, I hope you enjoy it, and please consider leaving a kudo or a comment :)
> 
> So we’ve passed the one year anniversary of this story, awesome right? I was originally going to post this way back in November, but editing took quite a bit of time and I was battling out some plot stuff. But it's done now, and I got it posted. Good news is that I already have chapter 10 written & edited, so that’ll be out later this month (looking towards next week, how’s that sound?)
> 
> Also I was looking at the basic outline, it looks like we're about halfway done with book one... that's exciting :O Hopefully I'll be able to finish this story before next year, and get the first interlude out. (Actually... I might be able to post it earlier. I'll see how it goes)
> 
> Chapter 10 is going to be our Harvest Festival, and includes some more relationship building and a little secret that sets up chapter 11... Which well… you’ll see. There’s a lot planned in a smallish chapter, so stay tuned.
> 
> Until next time c:


	10. The Harvest Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Harvest Festival has arrived, giving Aria a chance to mend some relationships... and break others.

Heavy perfume cloyed the air, mixed in with smells that every Harvest Festival was familiar with. Cinnamon, toffee, pumpkin. All these scents were there. Its potent concoction stronger every second. Aria tugged at the edge of her mask, pulling it towards her nose. 

She’d be glad for some excuse to run. Any political and serious tones were put on hold - at least for today. Instead, the conversation took it’s form of playful, questioning, and… boring. Her other problems would continue, but at least this one could be solved with the internal roll of the eyes.

She strayed near a group of noblewomen, their costumes adorned with precious gems and feathers that made them stand out like pretty birds. Gold and diamond glinted in the light, their masks were bold and outrageous. In comparison, Aria felt she wore a simpler dress… It had seemed that ‘bold masquerade theme’ was not written on her invitation.

Her lower lip quivered as she forced it into a smile when another group joined her. How eerily similar this night was to her very first ball. The smells had brought the memory of it first, but it was the dolled up dresses that saddled beside her, prying with questions that made it come to attention even more. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be roped into dancing with some dignitary’s son-in-law from who-knew-where.

“Aria! My dear, I haven’t seen you in ages!” The shrill voice belonged to Lady Melody, a prominent member of Westcliffe’s elite. “My, my, how you’ve grown! You’d be interested in my son, I can tell. He’s near your age.”

And there it was. That little feature of large galas Aria had repressed deep within her. She sighed. Why that detail slipped her mind would forever be a question. 

“I heard his lordship was engaged,” Aria forced the smile, pressing her lips to the edge of the champagne flute. Where was Logan and Erik when she needed them? “Would be quite scandalous of me to interfere.”

“Ah, you’re right.” She deflated, only to perk back up when another lady swatted at her arm. “Oh! Well, no matter, I’ve a whole slew of matches for you. The perfect one, perhaps even two!”

“Really? How quaint, I suppose I’ll have to take my pick. Who are my choices?”

“There’s Lord Hawkins, or, perhaps you’ll be interested in the newly widowed Lord Leighton.”

“Both are-” Aria began with a smile, the back of her teeth grinding together. _'Unremarkable men'_. They were more interested in hoarding and wasting money than sharing her values and ideals. “Wonderful choices. It’ll be hard for me to go back into courting at this present time.”

“Right, poor dear. Elliot’s up and gone, hasn’t he? Must still be in heartbreak, oh you poor dear.”

 _'Smile, smile, smile, dammit keep it-'_ “He’s studying in the Cities. Hardly up and gone. Besides, both of us came to an agreement. Ah! It appears King Logan is about to make his speech. Let us _listen_.”

Melody and the other ladies turned, allowing Aria a split second to slip away, and it was a chance she took. She made her way through the crowd, finding a spot along the wall to watch the king’s speech. Confident and strong. Even after all this time, there was never waver to Logan’s voice. If the people here hated him, they didn’t let it show.

Aria paused. What were the rebels doing in a time like this? Holed up in the sewers while the rest of the country danced in the streets? Were some of them working? She found herself looking at the door. No sign of Roy. She turned back. Perhaps they were plotting, using time to strategize and attack? It’d be a fine time to strike if they decided to go at it now.

“-thank you all. Let the celebration proceed.”

Music and laughter resumed, a lively waltz starting the events up again. It was no surprise when another lady found her, dragging Aria to the crowd to dance with some partner. Her steps were practiced as he took her arm, and soon, she fell into step alongside everyone else. 

Partners switched with every dance, and her supply of small talk was replenished with each new nobleman. And through her idle chats, the king was mentioned time and time again. For once, Aria did not have the words to assure the people. All she could think about was the week before. And how Logan still did not speak to her.

It was after the fourth song that she made her escape. Feigning tiredness, Aria made her way through the crowd, up the section where Logan and the other advisors sat. Whatever conversation they were in was put on pause when she came into view. The air became tense, suffocating the already stuffy room as she stared at all of them, and they stared back. 

“Logan-” She began, only to be shot down with a glare from the king himself. So this is the game she was supposed to play right now? Aria smiled, correcting her posture with ease. A curtsy and then an Albion-style bow for good measure. “Your Majesty.”

There was a certain brand of bitterness in her tone, and from his reaction, it was clear Logan knew what play she was making. His hand shot in the air, and as if he controlled magic, the advisors sitting around scattered, grabbing their glasses and leaving the area. 

“Speak,” he barely spat out the word before she took hold of the conversation.

“Are you planning to ignore me forever?” She whispered, her lower lip quivering up into a pleasant smile. ‘ _Play the game, play the part, play the look-_ ' the mantra repeated in her head. Another attempt to level out her tone. And this time, with success. “Since I have your attention, let’s talk about it. Now appears to be a decent time.”

“You will know your place. And you will _not_ demand anything from me.”

“Excuse me? What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” Aria bit back the rest of the complaint. She wasn’t speaking to someone like Roy, who would be fine with an argument or a banter. There’d be no hard feelings afterwards for calling him an idiot. But with Logan… There’d be repercussions. If not from him, from the others. The talk. The shame.

He sighed through his nose, a new expression taking over, one she was not familiar with. “You bombard me at a party, demanding I spare you the time to listen to whatever request you ask of when there are plenty of those outside who wait days for my time. You ask for forgiveness when I do not have any need to give you such things. The time for childhood is over, I have coddled you too long.”

This was something new. His tone, his posture, this was something she had never seen Logan do. At least, never directed towards her. Aria’s knees shook, and she settled down into one of the seats. “I don’t understand-”

“Even more reason why I should have stripped your position long ago-”

Before she could question, he held up a hand, silencing her in an instant. Was this the king everyone feared? Aria now understood… Had Logan always shown this side? Why had she never noticed? It was always brave and knowledgeable, compassionate and cunning. Not… Whatever this was.

“In order for Albion to flourish, critical decisions must be made. Critical decisions which you seem to lack and cannot take. Aria, your title of court advisor is hereby relinquished. Your duties as scholar and historian will remain. Tomorrow, Hobson will provide you the details of your new role. Now, return to the party, and do not speak to me unless you have an appointment.”

Her fingertips burned, that Will crackling underneath, just as it did a week ago. She stood, staring at the king one last time. Whatever being she tried to reacquaint with, it was no longer worth the trouble. These past months had shown much about both of them, and how much had changed between them. This, this was the final straw.

“They’re right, I can see that now. Cruelty suits you like a second skin. How unfortunate that I even spared you the time,” she forced out. “Isolation will be your end.”

The air remained tense, even as she turned away from him. No more waiting for a reaction, a response, anything that Aria knew she would never receive. She walked away, pushing through the crowd. For once, whatever whispers they said about her, she tossed them to the side. 

Aria stepped out of the ballroom, walking down the hall until the music had become a dulled noise. And then, it struck her. What she had said, what had happened.

A sob left her throat, and Aria threw off her mask. How could he dismiss her like that? Speak to her with such a tone? What happened between them to cause such a massive break? After everything they’d gone through, after everything… How could he?

' _I suppose it’s only fair,_ ’ she fell back to the wall, sliding down as another heavy sob left her. ‘ _It’s my fault, it is. I should have been careful-_ ’

And how could she? Demand something of him, beg and fight. And not only that, those words. Was she in any right to say something so hurtful? Again, there was nothing but lost trust and respect.

“My, my. You’re looking rather depressed for a fun event.”

Roy’s voice carried through the quiet. He emerged from the shadows when she perked up, and his presence should have been enough to elect a different reaction than sadness. Alas, could not will herself to grow bold. She wiped at her eyes, pressing her palms against flushed cheeks. 

“I’m not in the mood, Roy,” her voice cracked. “What the hell do you want?”

“Egads!” He gasped, a look of faux-hurt crossed his features. “Here I am about to give you a chance to escape this dreadful situation.” A hand reached inside his pocket, pulling out two masks which he flipped over in his fingers. 

She made no movement, and he lowered himself to a crouch, leaning in closer to her. “Let’s go. Come on.” Roy continued. In the darkness, she could see his eyes plead, more so than his lax tone. He placed the edges of the mask across her eyes. “Masks are so good at covering puffy cheeks and red eyes.”

“Seriously?!” Aria huffed, pushing away his hand. 

Roy’s brows scrunched together, and he plopped himself to the ground. Still close, still unmoving. He didn’t shy away from another of her looks. Instead, he let the silence stay for just a second longer before trying again. 

“Come on, Miss Posh. There’s friends out there waiting for you. What’s life without some risk and fun? Besides, it’d be a shame for you to sit here and cry all night.”

She pushed at his shoulder, lighter this time. “Can you shut up for once?”

“Impossible. You’re already aware of that.”

She grabbed the mask from his hands, tying it around her face. It was bulkier and covered more of her features than the last one, yet she knew Roy could feel her smile from underneath. He nodded, an approving hum as he pulled her up alongside him. 

They sprinted through the halls. Dodging a small patrol of guards, and wandering nobles before hightailing it out of the servant’s exit. Out to the cheer of the city.

•••

Bowerstone’s streets were filled. Beyond filled. If she thought the inn was full that one fateful night, then this blew it out of the water. So much commotion, entirely different from the controlled volume of the castle. As she weaved through people, Aria could see that everyone was living their own lives and enjoying their moment. No one was on display, unless they themselves willed it.

A small spot near the bookstore is where Roy led her. Three figures stood around a barrel lined with tablecloth and spilled ale stains. Laughing and talking, Aria recognized the voices in an instant.

“What a surprise,” Ben’s voice reached her ears as they approached. A smile on his face as he shimmied to the side to allow them to join the group. “Glad you could make it, darling.”

“It seems we weren’t the only ones in need of a fun time,” Erik grinned, boyish and all too delightful. He stood there in a full costume, from head to toe, still she couldn't help but feel cautious. 

"Is it safe?"

A boisterous laugh erupted from him, resulting in Page landing a blow in his side. This did not stop him and he only pretended to wipe away tears from his mask.

"Only somewhat," Page answered instead. Her arms were crossed and on occasion she'd look from side to side. "The costumes should help… A bit."

"Besides, can't let the three of you hog all the fun,” the prince continued. To anyone else, they were simply a group of loud friends, none would be the wiser. And already, she felt lighter. Her tears would be saved for another time now that she had something to enjoy.

“Oh!” A noise left her mouth as she stopped a passing cart full of sweets and baked goods. “Those look delicious-”

“Here! I’ll pay,” Ben pulled at her arm, going out of the space as they chased after the cart. She found herself laughing when the startled merchant turned to them - the bells on their hat jingling away.

Ben pulled out gold coins, setting a small stack of them onto the cart. The two talked for a moment, allowing Aria to take another moment to bask in the scene. She took a step back, bumping into one of the festival-goers. Immediately, she spun, an apology already at the tip of her tongue but instead of words her eyes went wide.

Something about the mask they wore was familiar… And yet different from everything else. The hollowness around the eye sockets, she couldn’t even meet the gaze of the wearer. Before she could question, or actually apologize, they left.

“Everything alright?” Ben stepped up to her with pastries in hand. 

“Yes.” The lie came easily, and she put up a smile. “I was just thinking about something sad.”

He laughed, taking his free arm in hers. “We can’t have that, not tonight.”

Aria put up her best smile, nodding adamantly. As they returned to the group, all she could do was send one last glance back into the crowd. All she could wonder about was that mask, and if it meant more. She hoped that it was simply her nerves. A quick swallow, and the thoughts were drowned. ‘ _Not tonight._ ’

Tonight was a night of fun, and she was with people who cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is another update :) It's a short chapter but I rather like it. Please consider leaving a kudo or even a comment if you also enjoyed, I'd appreciate it!!
> 
> Originally, this chapter was going to be a relationship building episode, yet, while writing, a few big plot pieces took over. And this chapter became incredibly important. 
> 
> I’ve begun to write the next few chapters, so hopefully I’ll get those done and I’ll be able to have another batch of back to back uploads. And I changed some things around for the story order. While what I originally had as the next chapter will still be written, I've decided to have an interlude follow this chapter. It's the more logical choice (and you'll see why), but also gives us a break and you get to see what Erik is up to. 
> 
> Until next time!


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